Skyrim: Paths of Fate
by ganto
Summary: He is half-Imperial, half-Nord. She is a Bosmer. He wants a new life, while she seeks a refuge. They seemingly have almost nothing in common, but Fate soon brings them together in a way no one would expect. Rated M for language, non-explicit violence and adult themes. Multiple POV. All credits (aside from OC's) goes to Bethesda, feedback much appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

_Now, I'd like to say a few words to the opening: First, I apologize for any mistakes in this story. It's my first TES fanfic and English is not my native language. This story is more or less a result of my newest obsession :-) Another thing, just a formality; aside from my OC's, I don't own anything of TES Skyrim. So, this is all I'd like to say to the foreword and here goes the first chapter, I hope you like it. I would appreciate a feedback, even a negative one._

* * *

Chapter 1 – Welcome home?

I woke up and almost instantly regretted it as I felt a strong headache. I had no idea how long was I out but as soon as I noticed I was in a wagon with my hands bound, I knew immediately I was in a big trouble. At first, I couldn't remember anything; why was I sitting on this wagon with bound hands, why my head hurt like I was ran over by a rampaging troll, hell, I couldn't even remember how I got here at all, wherever here was.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hey, you! Finally awake, I see." I raised my head and saw a Nord man clothed in a brown-and-blue armor of some sorts. He had a long blonde hair and a short beard and he actually looked concerned about me. I noticed he had bound hands too.

"How long was I asleep?" I grumbled, shaking my head to try to clear my blurry vision. My headache dulled a bit and now I noticed we weren't the only prisoners in the wagon. Beside the blonde Nord sat a skinny man in rags, who looked very frightened; just another reminder of whatever problem I got myself into. Opposite of him sat another Nord; this one must have been some kind of noble, judging by his clothes, he had long graying hair and a goatee. I noticed he was gagged, which I found somewhat suspicious. Finally I took a notice of a dark skinned Bosmer woman slumped to my side between me and our gagged fellow. She was sleeping, or more likely knocked unconscious, according to the dry blood on her temple. And, to my horror, even my light armor was replaced with rags.

"Not even for an hour. Probably you didn't got hit as hard as our Bosmer friend over there. Damn Imperials…" The uniformed Nord answered. "So, you were trying to cross the borders, kinsman? And walked right into the Imperial ambush, like us?" He asked then.

With every word spoken, memory started coming slowly back to me. As for me, I'm not a Nord; not entirely, at least. My father was, but he left to Cyrodiil to join the Imperial Legion. He fought in the war with Altmeri Dominion, but he got killed in the battle of Red Ring at the very end of the conflict. Talos bless him…I never got a chance to meet him in person, because war was already over when I was born. As for my mother, she was the only family I ever knew. She was an Imperial, but in many ways she was very much like my father. She revered Talos, just like he did, so when the Empire signed the accursed White-Gold Concordat, she lost her faith in the Emperor; she saw the act as a betrayal, as did a lot of others, and refused to accept the ban of Talos. A few years after the end of war, we moved from a city of Cheydinhal to a small village near Bruma.

For some time, things were quiet. But then people started disappearing, people openly revering Talos. By that time I was old enough to actually understand what was happening around me and so I started learning everything I thought I could use; fighting, archery, smithery, I even got my mother to help me master some restoration spells. Very soon we learned that Thalmor was arresting Talos worshippers. It became clear Cyrodiil was not safe for us anymore so I and my mother planned to leave Cyrodiil as soon as we could. Our goal was Skyrim, the northern province of Tamriel, homeland of Nordic people, emblazoned with legends. But before we could carry out our plan, one day…my mother just disappeared. It was clear who was behind that, but everyone who went against Thalmor paid a heavy price and I knew that. With no other choice left, I ran.

The journey was long a difficult, but gods be praised, I managed to avoid any fight. Every step closer to the home of my ancestors I felt happier. For others, Skyrim may be just a wasteland covered in ice and snow, not worth any attention, but for me it was a chance for a new beginning, without Thalmor agents sniffing around every corner…or I thought so, at least. I was nearing the borders when I met a Bosmer woman…the same woman which was just sleeping beside me. She was trying to fend off a few bandits when I found her. I helped her to get rid of the attackers even though she seemed more than able to handle herself. After the battle we agreed to travel together, at least until we reach the borders. We didn´t speak much during our brief travel. She was unusually silent, only speaking when necessary. I didn't even get to know her name.

Soon enough we crossed the borders and entered Skyrim. I really enjoyed the moment I set foot on this land, beautiful in its own rough way. I made it home, and without any trouble. But unluckily for me and my companion, I had no idea my luck had finally run out. We were just a several steps past the borders when red uniformed soldiers crossed our path and surrounded us. Imperial soldiers. Trying to avoid confrontation, I tried to explain them this was simply a misunderstanding. But they didn't care at all. They tied us up and took our weapons and belongings. When my Bosmer fellow tried to resist, they just knocked her out. Then they shoved us to some other prisoners and loaded us on wagons carrying us gods know where…but not before one of the soldiers hit me in the head, for a good feeling probably.

So here I was, sitting on this damn cart and pondering what terrible atrocity I possibly committed to deserve this. Lost in my thoughts, I misheard my fellow prisoner's question. The blonde Nord sighed and nudged me with his hands. "Hey, are you listening, brother?"

"Oh? Yeah…wrong place, wrong time." I answered lamely. I certainly wasn't in a mood for talk…but I figured I might get some answers. "You care to tell me what is going on here?"

Nord looked at me quizzically, raising his eyebrow. "You were gone for past few years?"

"You could say that." I replied with a slight smirk.

The man in rags sitting beside blonde Nord suddenly spoke up. He sounded very angry. "Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along – Empire was nice and lazy. If they weren't looking for you, I could've stolen the damn horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!" Thief, figures.

The Nord snorted. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The Imperial soldier driving the wagon looked over his shoulder, still keeping his eyes on the bumpy road. "Shut up back there!" He barked at us.

"You shut up." I muttered bluntly, not caring whether the Imperial heard me or not. The woman beside me groaned slightly, she was waking up.

"What's up with this one anyway?" The thief asked with disdain, pointing at the gagged man.

The blonde prisoner started glaring daggers at him. "You're talking about Ulfric the Stormcloak, thief, so you better watch your tongue!" He hissed lowly.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're leading the Rebellion! But if you've got captured, then…oh Gods, where are they taking us?" The thief started panicking.

"Rebellion? What by the Nine are you talking about?" I asked exasperatedly. The Bosmer woman finally sat up, nursing the wound on her temple.

To my surprise, the blonde Nord smiled. "It's nice to see someone who hasn't abandoned the true faith." He said. "Long story short, the people of Skyrim got fed up by Empire denying our rights and making nice with Thalmor. But banning our rightful gods was the last straw."

"I can't say I blame them." I remarked. I didn't really hate the Empire, but still I didn't trust them, not after the Concordat.

Our little captive society went silent for a while. Our Bosmer companion suddenly spoke up. "Where are we being taken?"

Blonde Stormcloak hung his head. "I have no idea, but I have a feeling Sovngarde awaits us." He replied solemnly.

I was shocked. I may not be a pure Nord but I understood perfectly what those words meant. "No! This can't be happening, this isn't happening!" The thief started babbling, probably getting hysterical.

The Bosmer woman couldn't have known what Sovngarde meant, but she took the hint. "Are they going to kill us?" She asked silently, looking straight at me.

I shook my head. "I don't know." Truth to be said, I didn't even want to know. I had no idea what the Imperials intended to do with those Stormcloaks, but I and my elven fellow traveler were not rebels. I hoped those soldiers could see that, but so far it didn't look that way.

"Where are you from, people?" The blond Stormcloak asked again.

"Why do you care?" The thief snapped back.

"Nord's last thoughts should be of home." Stormcloak replied with a calming voice.

"I…" The thief stammered. "Rorikstead, I'm from Rorikstead."

"Cheydinhal." I said.

Stormcloak smirked lightly. "Cyrodiil, huh?"

"Long story." I answered bluntly.

"What about you?"

The Bosmer woman didn't respond immediately. She looked around the trees surrounding the path and then whispered. "Falinesti."

I heard distant murmuring of people. I turned around and realized that wagons with prisoners entered some fortified village. Imperial soldiers were guarding the entrance or simply walking on the path ahead of us. I noticed a few horsemen as well. One of them was clothed in a distinctive uniform of an imperial high-ranking officer. One of his subordinates was just giving him a report.

"General Tullius, sir, the headsman is waiting!"

"Good. Let's get this over with."

The thief started freaking out over a mention of a headsman. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh…Divines, help me!" I rolled my eyes. This man was really starting to get on my nerves.

The Stormcloak nudged me and pointed at the general, who was just speaking with a black robed Altmer. "You see that? That's general Tullius, the military governor. And he's got Thalmor with him. I bet those damn Elves have something to do with this." He said with disdain. My heart sunk; looks like I´m not getting rid of these Altmer bastards anytime soon.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking around the village.

"This is Helgen." The Stormcloak answered. Looking around, he reminisced. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." He paused for a moment. "It's funny. When I was a kid, the Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe."

"That's not the Empire you're looking at, not anymore." I muttered. It was true; the heart of the Empire was broken for good, when Altmeri forces captured and plundered the Imperial City. It would take ages for it to recover from the atrocities they committed.

As our wagon moved through Helgen, crowd of people was staring at us. Most of them were just talking among themselves, while some were pointing at us, insulting or laughing at us. A few children peeked curiously from their homes, but parents shouted at them to get back in. None of us said a word, except the thief, who was praying to whatever gods he revered. Then our cart arrived at the village square, where several Imperials were already waiting. A high tower dominated the whole place, but that was the last thing that interested me. In front of the tower…there was a chopping block, and right next to it stood a headsman with Arkay priestess. So we were going to be executed; I certainly didn't expect this kind of welcome.

Our cart came to a halt. "Why are we stopping?" The thief let out a shriek.

"Why do you think?" Stormcloak retorted as soldiers started forcing us off the wagon. "End of the line. Let's go, we don't want to keep gods waiting for us."

I had no other choice but to stand up and follow the other prisoners. Our Bosmer associate stood beside me, pale and shaky. I could tell she was scared, but she didn't say a word, unlike certain thief who now was shouting he wasn't a rebel.

"Face your death with some damn courage, thief." The Stormcloak growled at him. I couldn't help but agree. Sure, I didn't want to die, not like this. But still, I hadn't thought about running from an inevitable. Maybe I did inherit something from my father.

We stood before a helmeted female officer and her subordinate, who held a list, probably with names of prisoners. "Step towards the block when we call your name, one at the time!" The Imperial woman commanded.

"The Empire loves their damn lists." The Stormcloak grumbled.

The low-ranked soldier started reading. "Ulfric the Stormcloak!" The Jarl of Windhelm separated from us and went to the block.

The Stormcloak bowed his head, murmuring "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."

"Ralof of Riverwood!" This time it was the blonde Stormcloak, who went to the block.

"Lokir of Rorikstead!"

The thief snapped. "NO! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" Instead of falling in line, he decided to run for his life. He ran past the officer and towards the gate. The officer yelled at him to stop, but he ignored her. "You're not going to kill me!"

"Archers!" Lokir the thief suddenly fell to the ground when several arrows hit him in the back. He didn't move.

The officer turned back to us with a satisfied smirk. "Anyone else feels like running?" She asked smugly.

The soldier with a list suddenly looked at me and said. "You there, step forward." Then he turned to the Bosmer woman beside me. "You too, Bosmer." He sized us up. "Who are you?"

I exhaled sharply before answering. "My name is Farlas Firewalker, from city of Cheydinhal."

"Sounds familiar." The soldier mused briefly, and then looked at my Bosmer companion. "And you?"

"Falaere of Falinesti." She croaked, her voice faltering.

"Valenwood is far away from here. What are you doing alone in Skyrim, anyway?" The Imperial said and turned to his superior. "What should we do? They are not on our list."

The officer answered almost without hesitation. "Forget the list, they go to the block."

* * *

_Falaere´s POV_

"Forget the list, they go to the block."

I felt my knees giving under me. Officer's words were ruining the little hope I have left; all this time I was hiding and running from death just to get caught in this frozen wasteland and die anyway. Why? What did I do to deserve such a fate? I tried to hide tears welling in my eyes, barely noticing the confused look the other Imperial gave his superior.

Nord standing next to me, Farlas or something like that, gave the Imperial officer a hateful look and growled, not bothering to hide his fury. "Divines curse you, worthless bitch." Then he stormed away to line up with the other convicts, not looking back.

"Yes, captain." The low-ranked soldier sighed and looked at me sympathetically. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains will be returned to Valenwood." He said before telling me to fall in line with the others. I didn't listen to his apology, I couldn't. All I wanted to do was to curl up somewhere quiet and cry my eyes out, but I had at least to look composed. This wasn't fair. I've never done anything wrong, yet I was about to be executed. For a moment I heard voices of my ancestors waiting for me to join them in the afterlife. It wasn't any consolation for me, instead it brought memories I wanted to forget. My family was just one of the many in Valenwood, neither rich nor famous, but we lived in peace…until Thalmor invaded our home. As time went by, our family grew more and more distrustful to Thalmor, especially due to their machinations and bloody war with the Empire. All of this gave Thalmor an excuse for numerous purges in Valenwood. My family fell prey to one of them. I never tried to describe or even think about it, it was way too painful. Now I was the only survivor, a refugee. I spent last twenty years running and hiding from Thalmor, knowing they must have been aware of my survival. I lived from day to day, without a home, without any friends, I lived in constant lies, denying who I was. No one would miss me should I pass on. I didn't want to die, not yet and not like this, but as I thought about it, staying alive probably wouldn't make much difference for me.

I joined the other captives waiting for their execution and I saw the Imperial general confronting the leader of the rebels, Jarl Ulfric. "Ulfric Stormcloak, some in Helgen call you a hero, but a true hero wouldn't use a power such as Voice to kill the High King and usurp his throne."

A Voice? What was he talking about? Farlas, who stood before me, just let out an incredulous "Wait, he did what?!" Maybe he knew what this Voice meant.

"You started this war and plunged the Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire will put you down and restore the peace!" The general finished. Ulfric, being gagged, could do nothing but grumble something unintelligible.

I stopped listening and stared to the ground, waiting for the headsman to be done with his job, but suddenly a roar echoed in the distance. It sent shivers down my spine and I couldn't help but imagine beasts and abominations from our stories.

The Imperial with the list looked towards the sky. "What was that?" He said nervously.

The General, Tullius, just ignored the roar. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"By your orders, general!" The officer, who sent me to my death, saluted and turned to the priestess. "Give them their last rites." She said scornfully, like if we were just filth, who didn't deserve even a blessing from our own gods.

The priestess raised her hands towards the sky, beginning our last rite. "As we commend your souls to the Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines be -"

"Oh for the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" One of the Stormcloaks interrupted her and stepped towards the block. "I haven't got all the morning!" A few chuckles echoed through the crowd of convicts.

"As you wish." The priestess uttered in an offended manner and took a few steps back. As the Stormcloak stepped to the block, the female officer forced him to his knees. The Stormcloak grumbled something and laid his head on the block, but, defiant even in his last moments, he took a look on the headsman.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials! Can you say the same?" He yelled with a scornful smile. The headsman just sighed and swung his axe at convict's neck. A sickening thwack resounded as the Stormcloak's head ended up in the basket. I started trembling at the sight of execution. The response was almost instant.

"You Imperial bastards!"

"Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

The blonde Stormcloak who sat on a wagon with me, Ralof, whispered. "As fearless in death, as he was in life."

The officer just kicked the dead body off the block and then pointed at someone in the crowd: Farlas. "Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!"

Before the fellow convict took a single step, the roar echoed again, but this time it seemed closer. Several men looked towards the sky, they were getting nervous. I heard them whispering among themselves, none of them had any idea what exactly was that roar.

The female officer was only concerned about the execution. Ignoring the roar and her nervous troops, she shouted "I said: Next prisoner!"

A couple of Imperials went to grab Farlas by shoulders but he shook them off, saying "Don't touch me! I'll go to that damn block myself." He clearly wasn't afraid of death; either that or he was able to mask his fear well. I wish I could say the same for myself. He stopped at the block and snarled again, when the officer tried to force him on his knees. "I said don't touch me, whore!" The officer backed off, even though she didn't look intimidated.

Farlas fell on his knees and laid his head on the block without a word, waiting for the headsman to do his job. He raised his axe to cut convict's head off, but suddenly another roar pierced the sky, this time right above our heads. Whatever it was, it caught everyone's attention. General Tullius drew his sword and looked at the sky, searching for an intruder. "What in Oblivion was that?" He yelled at his subordinates.

"Sentries, what do you see?" The female officer barked.

"I can't see anything, it's hiding in the clouds!" One of the soldiers on the tower shouted back, his effort to discover the uninvited quest in vain. Suddenly, everyone started backing off, as something landed on top of the tower right behind the headsman. That thing was huge; it looked like a giant lizard, all black and scaly with sharp horns and large wings. But the worst were its eyes; red with a menacing, furious look. I fell on the ground, petrified with fear. I had no idea, what this beast was, but I had a nagging feeling I've already seen it.

"DRAGON!" I heard someone shouting.

"Don't just stand there! Get the townspeople to the safety!"

The creature looked around the village and fleeing people and made a sound resembling a deep chuckle. Then it took a breath and shouted in some kind of language I had no chance of knowing. Everyone too close to him was knocked on the ground. The sky went dark and large falls of fire started falling down. I did the very same thing I had been doing for last few years: I ran.

* * *

_Farlas´s POV_

"What in Oblivion was that?"

I breathed out. To my surprise I was still alive. The Imperials were no longer concerned about executing Stormcloaks, now they were searching skies for a thing roaring right above us. Even the headsman was looking at the sky, paying no attention to whatever I might do. I could've used the sudden distraction to escape and save my life, but for some absolutely insane reason I just remained there with my head on the block. I heard soldiers shouting something about that 'thing hiding in the clouds' when the ground shook, making everyone stumble. I looked up to the tower nearby me…and my blood ran cold.

Right on top of the tower sat a **dragon**. Living, breathing dragon from ancient legends. At first I thought I was just seeing things but as the dragon let out a shout, knocking all of us off our feet in the process, I understood that all of this was real. The sky darkened and fireballs started falling down, almost like if the Gods got angered by us mortals and decided to destroy our world. For a minute I was too shocked to actually get on my feet and run for my life, but then a familiar voice got me out of my petrified state.

"Hey Firewalker, get up! Come on, Gods won't give us another chance!" The blonde Stormcloak, Ralof shouted at me, his hands already freed from bindings. I ran after him, not daring to look back. Ralof led me in the second tower across the village square. I took a chance to look around for other survivors, particularly the Bosmer woman who I had travelled with for a while. She was nowhere in sight.

Ralof and I managed to get into safety of the tower, away from the rampaging dragon. We weren't the only ones who made it inside; there were a few other Stormcloaks, one of them was injured. I noticed Ulfric the Stormcloak standing there as well, unbound and without a gag. "Jarl Ulfric! That thing out there…is it what I think it is? A Dragon?" I addressed the Jarl.

Ralof turned to me. "You think the legends could be true?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Ulfric interrupted me. "Legends don't burn down villages." The tower we were in shook violently and a few stones fell down the spiral staircase. "We need to move, now!" Ulfric shouted.

"Would someone be kind enough to get me rid of those bindings?" I shouted back. I didn't like the thought of me running across the burning village with my hands still tied.

"This has to wait! We need to get out of this tower before it crumbles!" Ralof answered, dragging me up the staircase. On the mezzanine halfway up the tower I saw a huge hole in the wall. Two men were already there, clearing the blocked staircase from toppled stonework. All of a sudden, a black scaly head of a dragon peered inside the tower, spitting a fireball. Ralof pulled me back and we had to watch as the poor men were burned alive before they had a chance to escape their gruesome fate. The dragon flew away, spreading death and doom all over Helgen.

Ralof helped me on my feet and beckoned me to follow him. "See the inn on the other side? That's our way out!" He said, pointing at the half-crumbled house as we stood at the hole. "Just jump on the roof, I'll go right behind you!" I nodded in acknowledgement, ran through the hole and jumped. I knew the impact wouldn't be pleasant, but I didn't expect the roof to collapse under my weight. I landed in a pile of broken logs, grunting in pain. After a brief struggle I was on my feet again, running out of what was left of the inn. Almost immediately I was greeted with a familiar sight of an Imperial soldier, the same one who read our names after we arrived to Helgen.

"Haming! You need to get over here!" The soldier yelled at the panicking boy in the middle of the street. Haming finally noticed the soldier waving at him and ran towards him. "Good boy! You're doing…" The Imperial was cut off as the dragon landed nearby, spitting another fireball and burning everything in sight. "Gods, everyone get back!" The soldier and the boy had barely enough time to get into cover. Only now I noticed the familiar elven prisoner, Falaere was her name, sitting beside an old man and shielding herself from the dragon menace.

The Imperial soldier finally took a notice of me. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way!" He turned to the old man nearby. "Take care of the boy! I have to find general Tullius and join the defense!" I smiled to myself as I understood the absurdity of this statement. Imperial general must have had at least fifty men with him, and yet they still didn't leave a scratch on the scaly beast.

The old man nodded as he tended to the frightened boy. "Gods guide you, Hadvar!"

The Imperial, Hadvar turned to me and barked "Alright, grab your friend there and stay behind me!" Of course, he didn't bother to remove my bindings. I gestured to Falaere to join us. "GO!" Hadvar shouted and we started running across the half burnt street. As we dashed and tried to evade the dragon flying above the village, I noticed Falaere carrying a small dagger; she apparently managed to cut her bindings. I reminded myself to ask her to get me rid of mine. We were just running between two destroyed houses when the dragon landed on a wall right next to us. Luckily for us, he was looking in another direction. "Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar hissed at us. We stuck close to the wall, hoping the dragon wouldn't notice us.

The monster inhaled to release another fire breath, this time I heard something resembling words. "_Yol Toor Shul_!" The dragon shouted, burning several unfortunate people to crisp. Then he flew off. The soldiers, who were still alive, were trying their best to take the raging beast down, but they just were no match for it. Helgen was doomed. There was not a single house left untouched and streets and alleys were covered in dead bodies. The air smelled like smoke and death and cries of people being slaughtered could be heard.

"It's just us, prisoners! Stay close!" Hadvar shouted as he ran forward, not looking back. We passed under the archway into the keep's courtyard, when all of a sudden Ralof showed up, armed with two war axes.

Hadvar stopped and snarled at the former captive. "Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!"

"We're running, Hadvar! You're not stopping us this time!" Ralof retorted. He headed to the keep's door, but he stopped when he noticed me and Falaere. "Come with me! We have to get into the keep!"

Hadvar ignored him and yelled at us. "Follow me prisoners!"

We had to choose who we should follow. Unfortunately for Hadvar, I knew who I was going with. I wasn't planning on sticking with someone whose friends were about to cut my head off just for fun. Besides who could assure me I wouldn't be executed somewhere else if I survived the dragon attack? I glanced at Falaere; she didn't move either. "Sorry Hadvar, but Imperials were going to cut my head off without any reason. I don't think I should trust you." I said bluntly. Falaere didn't say anything, instead she stepped closer to me and Ralof.

Hadvar looked at me like if he couldn't believe what I just said. Then he frowned and said "Fine. Gods help you then because no one else will." before he stormed away.

"Maybe he would be better off if he joined us." Falaere muttered.

Ralof watched Hadvar as he disappeared around the corner and then sighed. "He's not a bad kid, he just…doesn't understand our cause. Now let's get into the keep, I really don't feel like getting eaten by a dragon!" We nodded and followed him. Careful not to draw dragon's attention we slipped into the keep and closed the door. We were safe…for now.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Unbound

_Falaere's POV_

The Helgen Keep was empty; we were apparently the only ones who managed to hide from the monster which was decimating the village. Ralof and I blocked the door to make sure the winged lizard-thing would not get inside the keep. I thanked the divines silently for saving my life not only from the headsman's axe but also from the black scaly abomination which was hell bent on turning everyone and everything into a burning crisp. The sounds of battle could be still heard from outside. I leaned on the wall and wanted to just sit down and rest for a while when the Imperial man, Farlas, nudged me gently in the arm.

"Uhh…Falaere, is it? Would you mind if you cut my bindings off?" He asked and raised his bound hands, still shaken a bit. I could not blame him; one minute, he was waiting for a headsman to chop his head off and only a while after he was running from this huge lizard-thing which ironically saved his life by interrupting the execution.

"No problem, just stand still for a bit…" I said and pulled out the dagger I used before to cut off my bindings while I was running from the scaly monster. I started cutting the bindings, careful not to cut Farlas, but not before I took a brief look at his face. At a first sight he looked pretty much like people I saw before in Cyrodiil; tan skin, coal black hair, sharp-featured stubbly face, with a few scars on the chin. And yet he was different from them. Unlike other Imperials, he had long hair, tied in a way they would not fall into his eyes and a strange, fiery red flame-shaped war paint over his left eye. What caught my attention were his eyes; piercing pale grey, unlike everything I have ever seen, and I have seen quite a bit of the world. Farlas noticed me gazing at him, but he did not say a word. I tore my eyes away from him, not wanting to appear rude, and focused on cutting the bindings.

It took a while, but finally I managed to cut through the ropes. Farlas started flexing his hands, grateful to be freed from tight bindings and nodded in thanks. We went into the large round room, which was empty except from a table and a few chairs. Ralof was kneeling by one of dead rebels and praying for a soul of his fallen comrade. He stood up when he noticed us approaching him.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He said wearily and looked at Farlas. "Your guess was right; it was a dragon what attacked Helgen, no doubt, just like in the children's stories and the legends. The harbinger of the end of times."

A _dragon_. As a child I heard very little about these creatures, they were pretty much like other beasts to me. This encounter entirely changed my mind. It took a one single dragon to decimate a whole village, a violent and bloody demonstration of its power…and nobody could stop it. There was no doubt it would dare to attack a city, no matter how many soldiers would guard it. I sincerely hoped I would never see one of these monsters again.

"Is there any way out of here? I don't think this place can withstand a dragon attack." Farlas asked.

"Every fort or keep should have a secret entrance in case the defenders need to escape when the keep is besieged." Ralof explained and gestured to the dead Stormcloak. "You may take Gunjar's gear; he won't need it anymore. I'll look around and try to find some way out of here."

For a moment, Farlas and I just stood there in silence, while Ralof was trying to get one of the doors open. Neither of us was armed…I had a dagger, sure, but while it was a lot better than nothing, I was not sure if I could hold my own in a fight with a tiny blade like this. One of us had to remain without armor and hope not to get killed before getting out of the keep.

"Take the armor; you will need it more than I do." Farlas said, deciding the tough situation, and took the soldier's axe. "Don't worry, I'll find some on the way." He added reassuringly, when he saw me just standing there, staring at the corpse. Finally I obeyed and reluctantly donned the dead soldier's armor.

Meanwhile, Ralof tried to open the door by any means he could think of, but to no avail. The door stubbornly remained shut. "Damn, it's locked. No way to get through that door without a key." He growled and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "I'm gonna try the other one, maybe I'll be lucky this time." He went to the door on the other side of the room, but he frowned as soon as he realized there was no lock or handle. "Crap. This door must be operated by a lever. I can't open it from our side." He swore angrily. We were trapped.

"Maybe we should wait until that dragon flies away. I don't think it would just wait for us to come out of here." Farlas suggested.

Ralof glared at him. "And risk that thing will pull this keep down on top of us? I don't-"He suddenly stopped. And then I heard it. Noises, coming from the other side of the door. Creaking of door being opened. And voices.

"It's the Imperials!" Ralof hissed at us. "Take cover!" We hurriedly crouched at the wall near the door. I listened carefully to the imperial soldiers. They had no idea we were here and I hoped it would stay that way.

"What would it take to bring that monster down?!"

"You saw that yourself! That 'dragon' or whatever those rebels called it devastated the whole village and killed almost everyone! We're damn lucky we survived the whole attack!"

"Shut it, soldiers! Our priority is to escape Helgen! Besides there is still a chance we might run into some of the prisoners. If we do, we'll put them down, understood? Now get moving!"

"That's her." Farlas whispered, barely containing his sudden anger. "That bitch, who sent us to the chopping block." Now I recognized her too. As much as I wanted to repay her for her courtesy, I wanted her not to go in our direction. But it was too late; the voices of imperial soldiers grew louder as they were coming near us. We readied our weapons; the fight could not be avoided now.

"Get that gate open, quickly!"

The gate opened with a squeaking sound and four imperial soldiers walked into the room, including familiar coldhearted captain. They were not aware of us…until Ralof stood up and charged at his adversaries.

"Stormcloaks!" The imperial captain yelled and drew her sword. "Kill them!"

We were outnumbered and our opponents were better armed. The Imperials were caught by surprise however, which gave us a chance to end this fight quickly, a chance we had to take if we wanted to stay alive. Ralof swung his axe and hit one of the Imperials in the face before he could unsheathe his weapon, killing him instantly. He turned just in time to dodge a blow from other Imperial. Farlas was engaged in a duel with a male officer, dodging or blocking every swipe of his opponent. He had no armor to protect him so he had to be careful; one single mistake could cost him his life.

The captain charged right at me. I could see the hateful expression on her face, she must have recognized me. I barely had time to dodge her strike; she was fast, even in a heavy armor. The next blow grazed my side, only by miracle stopped by my armor. She swung her sword at me again and again in her bloodlust, giving me hard time to deflect all blows coming at me. I glanced at Ralof and Farlas; they were still busy fighting the imperial soldiers and they could not help me. I did my best to fight off the enraged imperial woman, but she had an advantage over me, with her sword and better armor. Very soon I was backing the wall; I had nowhere to retreat anymore and my adversary knew that. She smirked and raised her sword to deal me a final blow. I did the only thing I could think of at the moment; I held out my left hand and shot a bolt of lightning. I had no time to wonder why I remembered just now I was able to cast spells.

The captain staggered a few steps back, caught off guard by the spell. There was a huge scorch mark on her chestplate. I took my chance and charged at her while she was distracted. Unluckily for me, I underestimated my adversary…when the imperial captain blocked my strike, knocked the dagger out of my hand and landed a solid punch on my jaw. Now it was my turn to stagger in surprise.

"You'll regret you had left your precious forests, you point-eared tree monkey!" She snarled in pain. I backed away from her, defenseless and crippled with a surge of fear, which kept me from thinking clearly. The captain let out a feral cry and swooped on me. I closed my eyes; there was no way I could survive this.

"Hey!" The woman stopped and looked back…just in time to receive a hard bash.

Farlas appeared out of nowhere and with all his might he slammed the head of his axe into the woman's face, breaking his weapon in the process. A sickening crunch resounded as her head was thrown backwards by the sheer force of the blow and she flew face first into the wall. She fell to the ground with a loud thud and did not move.

I looked around; for a minute I was surprised I was still alive. The imperial soldiers were lying on the ground, all dead. Gods still have not forsaken us yet, I thought to myself. "Here goes my axe." Farlas grumbled as he stared at now useless stick which used to be an axe. "You alright?" He asked me. I nodded wordlessly, still shaken by the duel with an enraged officer.

Ralof approached us, his hands stained by blood. "I'm glad you're still in one piece." He said and gestured to dead Imperials. "Search the bodies; one of those soldiers has to have a key." We started searching the dead Imperials. I kneeled to the dead imperial captain and took her sword, and then I started rummaging through the pouch on her belt. Ralof and Farlas, who donned the heavy armor from the officer he killed before, have not found the key yet. I kept searching and soon I found what we were looking for. Lucky me.

I hurried to the locked door and inserted the key into the lock. It matched perfectly. "That's it!" Ralof exclaimed once the door was opened. "Come on; let's get out of here before the dragon brings the whole keep down on our heads!"

"No need to tell me twice." Farlas mumbled, as we ran through the door. The spiral staircase brought us down to the large corridor. Ralof suddenly broke into the sprint when he caught sight of a few Stormcloaks wandering around the corridor. Farlas headed after him, however both of them failed to hear a thundering sound, as the ceiling of the corridor started collapsing. If I yelled at them to stop, they would not hear me over the noise of falling stonework. I ran after them and hauled them back before they would get crushed by debris. The rubble completely blocked the corridor and whirled clouds of dust, sending all of us in a coughing fit.

Farlas and Ralof just sat there for a moment, shocked by what just happened. "Damn it. That dragon doesn't give up easily." Ralof coughed as he stood up.

"And here goes our way out of here." Farlas grumbled, staring at the toppled stonework.

"Maybe we should try to go this way." I suggested, pointing at the door to my left.

Ralof nodded. "Let's give it a shot; not that we have much choice anyway." Farlas went ahead, muttering 'thank you' as he passed me, and carefully opened the door. He made a step inside and abruptly stopped, giving us a telling gesture; someone was in the room before us.

"Grab everything you need and let's move! The dragon is burning everything to the ground." Great, more Imperials.

"I just need to gather some more potions!" They had to be in the storeroom. This was good; we could use some supplies once we got out of here.

"Let's just kill them and be done with it!" Ralof whispered, clutching his axe. "They would do the same damn thing if they saw us!" I and Farlas looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

The two Imperials, an officer and his subordinate, were clearly surprised to see us charging at them. We cut them down before they took any chance to fight back.

Ralof looked around the now empty room. "The storeroom. Grab all potions you see, we will need them." He said calmly, like if he just did not kill a few imperial soldiers. "You may as well take some food; it might come in handy later."

The storeroom, also used as a mess hall, was already half-empty when we got here, but there were still some potions and a plenty of food left. We did not have a time to search the room thoroughly, for we could run into more Imperials at any time, but what we managed to find sufficed. In the end, seven healing potions, five stamina potions, four magicka potions plus some food the Imperials did not take already, all of this was gathered on a table. Farlas shoved the supplies quickly into the bag he found in a nearby chest.

"That's it. Come on, we need to keep moving!" Ralof urged and went ahead. Farlas threw the bag with supplies on his back and we moved along through the keep. Another staircase led us down to the basement. Ralof suddenly stopped and gestured us to be quiet. I could hear the sound of distant battle; the clanking of clashing weapons, battle cries, loud curses and moaning of wounded people. We carried on, slower this time and weapons ready, in case more Imperials attacked us.

"Do you smell that stench?" Farlas said with a disgusted look. I inhaled and almost immediately had to suppress a sudden urge to vomit. The air was thick with filth, blood and urine. Ralof probably smelled that too.

"Troll's blood!" He cursed and quickened his pace. "That must be a torture room. Come on, there must be our comrades down there!"

We started running down the stairs and stormed into the room with three cages and a corner enclosed with bars. Two Stormcloaks were battling the couple of imperial torturers. The Imperials were only lightly armed, but one of them was a mage, and a skilled one. The mage was holding a rebel woman in an embrace of sparks, clearly enjoying pained screams of his victim, while his helper was clashing with the other Stormcloak. None of them noticed us, yet.

The mage-torturer let out a maniacal laugh as he was burning the Stormcloak woman alive, however his joy was short-lived as Farlas ran up to him from behind and thrust the sword into his heart. The other Imperial turned around as he heard his master's scream. His foe used the sudden distraction and slashed him across his throat with his battle axe, killing him instantly. Farlas looked around the blood-stained room and then kicked the dead torturer in the head. He was furious at the atrocious behavior of those Imperials. I understood his anger; rebels or not, those people did not deserve this kind of treatment.

The silence was broken by moaning of a seriously wounded woman leaning on one of the cages. Her comrade hurried to her side. "By the Nine, Heddvi!" He cried out, panicking. His comrade was dying.

Farlas started rummaging through his backpack and soon he pulled out a flask of healing potion. He kneeled beside the wounded Stormcloak and held the flask to her lips. "Drink it, quickly!" He commanded as he poured the potion into her mouth. The Stormcloak, Heddvi, gulped and sighed with sudden relief, as the potion took effect. Her comrade gave Farlas a surprised, yet grateful look, for he did not expect an Imperial to help them. Farlas nodded in response and went over to examine the barred corner.

"I'm glad we made it here in time. Did more of you survived?" Ralof asked the fellow Stormcloak.

"Yes, there were more of us, but we got separated. I have no idea what happened to the others." The Stormcloak explained.

"What of…Ulfric…" Heddvi groaned, still in pain. She even tried to move, but her comrade restrained her. It was a wonder she was alive, let alone awake, after the injuries she suffered.

"Ulfric is alright, I'm sure of it." Ralof answered. "It takes more than a dragon to take down Ulfric Stormcloak!"

"I found some money; it might come in handy once we get out of here!" Farlas called out from the corner.

"Good, take it. We're not leaving anything here for those blasted Imperials!" Ralof said approvingly. Then, all of a sudden, he chuckled. "Are you sure you can handle that, friend?"

I turned to look at Farlas, as he walked out of the corner. At first I did not understand what was going on but then I caught sight of an iron greatsword, placed in a sheath on his back. I never saw anyone using such a huge weapon; I would probably have trouble even lifting it. Farlas did not respond to Ralof's remark, instead he shot him a glare. Ralof shook his head, smiling.

"Alright, we're lingering here long enough. We should move on." Farlas said emotionlessly. I silently agreed; the longer we stay here, the higher the possibility we would not get out of the keep at all.

Now it was Ralof's turn to glare. "I'm not leaving my comrades here!" Ralof retorted, almost yelling. Farlas scowled and opened his mouth to protest, but Ralof's fellow Stormcloak intervened before it would escalate into an argument.

"It's alright, friend. Heddvi is too injured to walk; I need to stay here with her. At least I can keep those imperial pigs from attacking you from behind." He said with a tired smile.

Ralof looked like he wanted to argue further, but then he surrendered. "Alright; Talos guide you." He sighed and patted his comrade on his back.

"Likewise, friend. We'll meet again in Windhelm…or Sovngarde, if we don't make it." The comrade replied gloomily. Ralof turned away and led us out from the torture room. Farlas gave the injured woman one or two more healing potions and then set off after us.

The corridor led us through another torture chamber and a jail. So far we did not run into any kind of resistance. I started hoping we might get out of here without any more fighting, but I was proven wrong when we heard an argument of several imperial legionnaires, right in the room ahead of us.

"Our orders are to wait here until general Tullius arrives."

"I'm not waiting to get killed by a dragon! We should fall back!" Those Imperials were standing right in our way and could not be avoided. We drew our weapons and stormed into the room. It looked like it was built within a cave. There was a brook flowing through the room, spanned by a small stone-bridge. The four Imperial soldiers were not looking in our direction, so we got a jump on them.

Farlas rushed ahead and swung his greatsword at the nearest legionnaire, who only now saw the enemy charging at him and reached his own weapon…too late. One slash across the chest and the Imperial lay in the pool of his own blood. Ralof lunged at the imperial officer and drove his axe into his head before he was able to raise his blade. Two remaining Imperials, standing at the other side of the room, pulled out their bows.

"Come on! We mustn't give them a chance to shoot!" Ralof bellowed. We dashed forward to cut down the archers before they would shoot us down. However, they were focused on other target. The first arrow completely missed, but the second one struck.

Farlas cried out, both in pain and anger, as the arrow struck his left knee. He staggered, letting out a few curses, and then started running, or rather limping, towards the archers, intending to cut them down. However, his wound was slowing him down, giving his adversaries time to finish him off. Finally the legionnaires took notice of us, but it did not matter to them as we were already too close. I threw a fireball at the soldier on my left; to his misfortune, the poor man was standing right in the pool of oil when the firebolt hit him. The oil ignited and burned the soldier alive. Ralof charged at the last Imperial, narrowly dodging another arrow, and struck his opponent to the chest. The legionnaire slumped to the ground, dead. I took a quick look around the room; we were alone, for now.

While Ralof was guarding the entrance, I hurried to Farlas, who sat on the ground, blood pouring from the arrow wound. I readied a healing spell in my left hand, but Farlas stopped me from casting it, to my utter surprise.

"I appreciate the help, but I can handle this myself. It's not so bad." He said with a pained smile. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the arrow and yanked it out, letting out a muffled scream. Then he cast a healing spell, again gritting his teeth in pain as the bloodied wound started re-knitting itself. In a few moments the wound disappeared without a trace. Ralof nodded, as Farlas got on his feet again, picking up his sword, and walked into the corridor leading out of the room. I stopped by the bodies of slain Imperials and took a bow and a quiver of arrows. The bow was a simple curved piece of wood, and the arrows with iron point were of bad quality, but for now it had to do.

I placed the bow on my back and set off after my companions. When I caught up with them, they stood at a raised drawbridge. "We should see where this goes." Ralof remarked and pulled the lever next to him. The bridge lowered and we dashed across and walked into a place where the spaces of the keep opened into a large cave. Suddenly a thundering roar cut through the air and we staggered as the ground beneath our feet shook wildly. I turned around at once and saw the corridor behind us was blocked with toppled stonework. Now we could only go forward.

* * *

_Farlas' POV_

At first, when the ground started shaking beneath our feet, I thought the dragon finally succeeded in pulling the keep down on us. When I looked around I realized the corridor behind us was completely caved in. Even though we were still alive, it was still bad. Now we could only go on through the cave and hope it wouldn't lead into a dead end.

"No going back that way now." Ralof muttered, pointing out the obvious. "We'd better push on; the rest of them will have to find another way out." I sighed mentally as we marched through the cave; I didn't want to get stuck in this place for the rest of my life.

The cave was large and dark, with many side passages leading to dead ends; an easy place for someone to get lost in. As we made our way through dim and narrow passages, I noticed several human skeletons along the way; these people were either killed by some beasts living inside the cavern or they simply got lost and were unable to find their way out of here. In any case it was just one of many reasons why one should be careful in the places like this.

This thought shortly proved itself true when the cave passage led us right into the nest of frostbite spiders. Of all beasts we had to run into one of these; I thought to myself. Frostbite spiders were known to be tough, fast and very dangerous; they were able to spit a blood-freezing venom at long distances, if they didn't hit you with poison, they could rip you to shreds with their sharp fangs. Another problem was their size; even the smallest ones were as big as dog. As expected, the spiders attacked as soon as we wandered into their nest. With our blades and Falaere's spells, we disposed of them relatively quickly; these annoying pests were really hell-bent on having us for lunch, but luckily for us they were not too smart.

"I hate these things; too many eyes, you know?" Ralof remarked as he kicked one of dead chitinous bodies.

"On that we can agree." I replied. In that moment I swear I could see Falaere rolling her eyes.

The spiders were dealt with; it was time to move on if we wanted to get out of this place before the sunset. After a while we walked into a large space with a familiar brook flowing in the middle. The sunlight penetrated inside the cavern through numerous cracks in the ceiling; that was a good sign, the exit had to be close. I nearly lost track of how long we were wandering around the underground tunnels and I was really looking forward to be on the outside again…so much that I forgot to be cautious.

I would never see another beast blocking our path if Ralof didn't stop me. "Hold up! There's a bear just ahead!" He whispered, pointing ahead at a huge ball of fur lying not far from us. Luckily for us, the bear was sleeping.

"I'd rather not tangle with her right now. Let's just try to sneak by." Ralof suggested. Good, I was about to say the same. Unlike those eight-legged frostbite bastards, bears usually didn't attack unless they felt threatened. If the bear woke up by any chance, she would leave us alone if we kept our distance…probably. Sticking close to the wall, Ralof and I started creeping slowly past the sleeping bear to the safety. Falaere, however, had other plans.

I cringed when I saw our Bosmer fellow slowly drawing near to the bear. "Shor's balls, what are you doing?!" Ralof hissed at her when he found out what she was doing. She didn't hear us, or at least pretended she didn't. The bear sniffed and raised her head as she sensed another presence. _Damn it woman_, I thought to myself, _get out of there before it tears you apart!_ The beast turned and growled at the intruder, but she didn't back off. _That's it, that bear is gonna kill her._ I reached my greatsword, expecting the bear to attack at any minute; if so, I wanted to stop it from hurting any one of us.

The bear watched the intruder warily, ready to attack and tear her to pieces. Falaere was still approaching, now just a few steps from the enraged beast…but nothing happened. The bear still just watched her, making no moves. Falaere and the bear glared at each other for a few seconds…and then, to our utter amazement, the bear started backing away. Falaere approached us slowly and smirked when she saw us staring at her in awe. _How did she do that? And what exactly did she do?_

"Well, I have no idea what did you just do, but it's another reason I'm damn glad you're with us." Ralof said when he recovered a bit from the shock. "Let's get moving, the exit has to be near."

After a few more minutes of wandering around we finally found our way out of the cave. After spending gods-know-how-many hours in the underground we were half-blinded by sunlight; we would never notice the familiar dark shape flying over our heads.

"Wait!" Ralof cried out suddenly and dragged us into the nearest bush as the dragon roared above our heads, the very same dragon who wiped out Helgen and all people living there. The winged monster fortunately didn't notice us and headed towards the mountains in the distance.

Ralof breathed a sigh of relief as the dragon disappeared behind the mountains. "There he goes; looks like he's gone for good this time." He turned to us and added. "We should clear out of here; this place is soon gonna be crawling with Imperials looking for survivors." We crawled out of the bush and started walking along the path leading to the near woods.

"What happens now?" Falaere asked.

"I have an idea." Ralof replied. "My sister Gerdur runs a mill in a town of Riverwood, not far from here. I'm sure she'd help you out." He paused as if he remembered something. "Now that I think about it, it would be better if we split up."

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "We're still not out of danger, there could be bandits waiting for us at every corner. I say we should travel together."

"True, but you have to understand we're not on the Stormcloak territory. We would attract too much attention, dressed like this." Ralof objected. Well, that was something I forgot to take into consideration. Ralof and Falaere wore Stormcloak uniforms while I had an imperial armor; that would look strange if we were unlucky to run into imperial soldiers.

"Yes, you're right." I replied. "It wouldn't be entirely credible if I said I had captured two of the rebels."

Ralof snorted in laughter. "That's why we have to split up, at least for now. Imperials would leave you alone if they saw one of them leading a frail rebel woman as a prisoner…maybe." Falaere glared at Ralof, stopping him from making any more remarks. "But still you should avoid them when you have a chance."

After several minutes of walk we came to a crossroad. Here we would go separate ways. "Good luck, friends. I wouldn't make it out of Helgen alive if it were not for you. I'll see you in Riverwood!" He said as he parted from us. Falaere and I were on our own again.

The journey proved itself rather uneventful. Not that it was a bad thing; after what we went through today, from nearly getting executed to running from an honest-to-gods dragon and wandering through underground tunnels for hours, we both wished nothing else would happen. Neither of us spoke and rather watched out for wolves, bandits or other nasty surprises. The stony path twisted through woods towards a small river.

Falaere abruptly stopped and stared at something ahead of us. "What do you see?" I asked.

"What are those?" She asked, pointing at the object of her interest. Only now I took notice of a group of three menhirs, standing where the path curved to run along the river. Each monolith had an image carved into it.

"I'm not sure. Let's have a closer look." I answered and we went closer to the stones. As I looked closer at the mysterious stones I recognized dots connected with lines, laying over carved figures. _These must be constellations_, I thought to myself. As I looked at the image of an armored man with shield and axe I felt a strange feeling, urging me to touch it. Falaere was dragged the same way to a stone with an image of a robed man, wielding a flame in his right hand. At first I was slightly disconcerted by the nagging feeling but then I encouraged myself. _What could possibly happen?_ I touched the menhir, at the very same moment as Falaere. Dots on the stone lit up like stars on a night sky and I felt a new power coursing through my veins. After a few seconds the light died, but I felt stronger than before. I have to ask Ralof about these stones, when I see him.

"What just happened?" Falaere asked confusedly. She didn't look so tired like before.

"I have no idea." I admitted. "I can't help it but I feel more…alive. If that makes any sense."

"Me too." Falaere concurred. "Maybe these stones are a source of some kind of magic."

"We can figure it out later. Come on, we need to get to Riverwood." I replied. We took a look at the menhirs once more and then we set out for a journey again. We walked for another hour before we saw a gate ahead of us, marking an entrance to a village walled with a wooden palisade.

We were almost to the Riverwood.

* * *

_I'm sorry it took me so long to update, the exams were quite a pain (and I still failed one). Plus my notebook broke down and I had to wait a whole damn month for it to be repaired. Anyway, I hope you like the story (so far)_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – Riverwood

_Falaere's POV_

After all this hardship we went through today, I was almost reluctant to believe it was all behind us, but the sight of a small peaceful village just a few steps before me was convincing enough. We could finally just sit down and rest after our frantic escape from the dragon and blockheaded Imperials. We stood at the gate and waited for Ralof, but he was nowhere in sight. As we waited for our fellow escapee I took a chance to look round the village.

Riverwood was a small and peaceful place, situated on the edge of a forest and along a small, fast river. As I looked around, I counted no more than ten houses, an inn and a local shop among them. A few people were walking around the village or talking to their neighbors; a burly man, drenched in sweat was working at the forge. In the end, it did not matter who was doing what; those people were just all the same unaware of a disaster at Helgen. The whole village leveled with the ground and its people slaughtered; every single one. I witnessed it all, yet I still could not believe it.

"DRAGON! I SAW A DRAGON!" Well, someone is aware of what happened today at least; I thought to myself as an old woman sitting on a porch of one of the houses stood up and shouted suddenly, pointing somewhere at sky. The door of the house opened and a young man stepped outside.

"What? What is it, mother?" He asked the woman, startled confused by her sudden outburst.

"A dragon; it was big as a mountain and black as night! It flew right over the barrow!"

Young man folded his arms on his chest and gave his mother a disbelieving look. "Dragons, is it now, mother?" He said patiently, although I could see how hard he tried not to roll his eyes. "Please, if you keep on like this everyone here will think you're crazy and I have better things to do than to listen to your fantasies." With that, he headed back to the house.

"You'll see, Sven!" The woman yelled at him, as he disappeared inside the house. "IT WAS A DRAGON, AND WHEN IT KILLS US ALL THEN YOU'LL BELIEVE ME!" She sat back down, pouting like a child.

An elf, a Bosmer like me, glanced at the old woman as he passed the house and shook his head. Then he noticed me and Farlas standing at the gate and made his way towards us. "I can tell you're new around here. We don't get many visitors here in Riverwood." The Mer said politely and smiled as he turned his attention to me. "It's nice to see a familiar face around here, sister Elf. I am Faendal." He introduced himself and bowed slightly. "Riverwood is quite a nice place, even for a Nord village. If you ever need help, you're free to ask, but…" Faendal leaned close to us and whispered. "Just be careful if you ever run into Sven, the son of that poor old woman. He is…not exactly what I would call a good man."

I could do nothing but stand there in puzzlement. I did not expect some of my kin to live here; this Faendal was a first friendly person I met here. For a minute no one said a word, Farlas then broke an awkward silence and asked. "I was told there was a saw mill. Could you give me the direction, please?"

"Of course!" He exclaimed obligingly. "It's on the small island back there, behind Alvor's forge. If you're looking for work, talk to Hod. He owns the mill."

Farlas nodded. "Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome." Faendal replied. "I'm afraid I have some matters to attend to so you'll have to excuse me for now." He added and took his leave. After a few steps he turned around once more and said "Enjoy your stay in Riverwood, travelers!"

"What was that with Sven about?" I asked Farlas as I watched Faendal entering the local shop. Farlas just shrugged.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." I nearly jumped when I suddenly heard a familiar lazy voice right behind me. Ralof came out of the bush growing alongside the palisade, smirking. "I see you're making friends already. Faendal is quite a nice lad, for an elf. No offense."

"Just how long have you been waiting for us?" Farlas asked.

"Nearly a half an hour." Ralof replied. "Where have you been anyway?"

"Oh, well…we kind of…made a short stop by some…weird menhirs along the road." Farlas explained, getting a little flustered. "There were some images carved in them, so we wanted to have a look, but…"

Ralof raised his eyebrow. "You mean the Guardian stones?"

"Guardian stones? What are they?" I asked Ralof, figuring he might know an answer.

"Well, they are three of thirteen ancient stones dotting the Skyrim's landscape; each one grants a blessing to the one who touches it, according to the person's birth sign." Ralof explained. "It's a very old magic, preceding even our oldest ancestors. The Guardian stones stand for three constellations: a thief, a mage and a warrior."

"I see." I nodded, finally understanding. I still felt the curious feeling of strength; physically I was not any stronger, but my mind was much clearer than before. For a moment I recalled the image of a robed spell-wielding man on a stone I had touched and then the realization dawned on me. _A mage_. Farlas had been drawn the same way to the menhir bearing the image of a fighter, _a warrior_, and even he felt the effect, in his words 'feeling more alive'. It really was a magic. Judging by his knowing smirk, Ralof must have suspected we took the blessing from the Guardian stones.

"Why have you been waiting for us anyway? I mean you could have headed to your sister and just told her we would be coming." Farlas remarked. A good question, now that I thought about it.

"Well, my sister is a good woman, but a bit suspicious, especially with the civil war going on." Ralof explained and then looked at Farlas. "And with your imperial outfit you would certainly not get her to help you." He added, earning a mock offended look from Farlas. "But she would trust me so I figured it would be for the best if we all went together so I could put in a good word for you personally. You both helped me escape, after all."

"Then lead the way, Ralof. We're right behind you." Farlas replied. Ralof took a swift look around, probably making sure there were no Imperials nearby, and then he led us over the footbridge to a small island. The saw mill was working and the air was thick with sawdust as wood was being cut to smaller logs. As we went past the mill, I took notice of a tall blonde woman chopping up firewood.

"Gerdur!" Ralof exclaimed.

The woman lowered her axe and turned to us. For a moment she just stared at us in astonishment, until she recognized Ralof. She threw away the axe and rushed towards Ralof, giving him a big hug. "Ralof! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, sister." Ralof replied as he returned the hug.

Gerdur's happy expression turned into a frown as she noticed Farlas and his imperial armor. "What's that supposed to mean? What is this Imperial doing here?" She asked curtly as she pulled back from Ralof.

Farlas sighed in exasperation. "I'm not with the Legion, if that's what you're worried about, lady."

"Then why wearing that armor?" Gerdur asked again. This was slowly but surely turning into an interrogation. Farlas scowled and opened his mouth, ready to snap back, but fortunately Ralof intervened.

"Please! Let's all just calm down. I can explain everything." He said hurriedly, trying to calm Gerdur. "These people are no legionnaires or imperial spies; in fact they saved my life."

Gerdur looked at him quizzically. "What are you talking about, brother? What happened?" She questioned, worry evident in her voice.

"I'm fine, Gerdur. At least for now I am." Ralof said reassuringly. "Is there somewhere we can talk? This place could be swarming with Imperials after what happened in Helgen…"

"Helgen?" Gerdur gasped, but she composed herself shortly. "You're right, follow me." She led us to a far end of the island, where we could not be heard. "Hod, dear, come here for a minute! I need your help with something." She yelled at someone on the mill, presumably her husband.

Shortly, a large figure appeared walked into the view. "What is it, woman? Sven shirking work again?" A tall, sturdy blonde man with a thick beard called out amusedly.

Gerdur rolled her eyes. "Just come down here, Hod!"

Her husband, Hod, grumbled something unintelligible before he caught sight of us. "Why didn't you tell me we were having visitors, I would've brought some mea…" He broke off when he recognized his brother-in-law. "Ralof?! What are you doing here? Wait – I'll be right down!"

Gerdur stopped at a small clearing with a large stump, a remainder of a once large and undoubtedly beautiful tree. It was far enough from the rest of the village; a perfect place to talk without being eavesdropped at. Gerdur waited for her husband to catch up with us and then spoke "Now we can talk, Ralof. Tell me everything."

"You all look pretty well done in. What did you get yourselves into?" Hod remarked.

Ralof sighed tiredly and landed heavily on the large stump, while I and Farlas just sat down on the grass. "Where do I begin?" He muttered as he tried to collect his thoughts. "I and some of my comrades were accompanying Ulfric on one of his travels. Near the Darkwater crossing we were ambushed by Imperials…like if they knew exactly where we would be. They outnumbered us; no way we could make it out alive; so Ulfric ordered us to lay down our arms."

"You were captured?" Gerdur gasped in horror.

"Yes. That was…yesterday, I think. I can't even remember when I last slept." Ralof shook his head. "At first I thought they were taking us to Cyrodiil, to be paraded in front of the Emperor, but instead we were brought to Helgen. That's how I met my friends here." He explained and pointed at Farlas and me.

"Yes, that was nice." Farlas said with a frown. "I don't even know why we had been arrested; they just tied us up, took all our stuff and threw us onto a cart with the rest of the prisoners. And they beat us up good, especially Falaere, I might add."

"Stupid imperial dogs," Hod muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What happened then?" Gerdur urged her brother to continue.

"When we arrived to Helgen, there was a headsman already waiting for us." Ralof seemed to hesitate, as he recalled the events leading up to the near-execution. "I thought it was all over; they lined us to the block, ready to start chopping."

"Those cowards," Gerdur spat out angrily. "Curse them!"

"They wouldn't even dare to give Ulfric a fair trial!" Ralof spoke bitterly. "Branded him a traitor for fighting for his own people!"

"But how did you managed to escape at all?" Hod asked.

To his surprise, Ralof chuckled, shaking his head. "You would think me crazy if I told you. In fact, I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." He paused for a moment before he continued. "They already managed to execute one of our people, but when my friend here," He gestured to Farlas who seemed uncomfortable with us talking about the whole incident. "was the next to have a shave from headsman's axe, a dragon attacked."

Gerdur gaped at him, utterly shocked. "You-you don't mean a real live dragon, do you?" She finally managed to stammer out.

Ralof just nodded. "As strange as it sounds, we would be all dead if it weren't for that dragon. In the confusion we managed to slip away." He explained and then he paused in thoughts. "Did you see anyone else making it to the Riverwood?"

Gerdur shook her head. "No, I didn't see anyone coming up the south road, as far as I know." Her eyes widened as a sudden realization dawned on her. "Please tell me Ulfric made it out alive." She whispered, almost hesitant to hear an answer.

"Don't worry about Ulfric. He'll be fine." Ralof waved his hand. "The old bastard is too stubborn to die, if you ask me." I sensed his hesitation; I knew he meant to calm his sister down, but even he was not sure if the Jarl of Windhelm survived the doom of Helgen. For some reason I felt this was not the last time we heard of dragons. I could not help but think what would happen if we ran into another dragon someday. Would we have the same luck like this time?

"You should stay here for at least a few days." Hod spoke, interrupting my thoughts. "You need to put yourselves together after today's events before you go…wherever it is you want to go."

"Are you sure?" Ralof asked hesitantly. "I'd really hate to put your family in danger, Hod. If the Imperials learned that…"

"Nonsense!" Gerdur cut him off. "You can stay here for as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials." She turned to her husband. "I have to get back to work. Hod, show our guests around and don't let them drink up all our mead." She said in a joking manner, making her husband snort in laughter.

Ralof nodded, smiling. "Thanks, sister. I knew we could count on you." Gerdur returned the smile before she disappeared behind the mill.

"Let's go, people!" Hod gestured us to follow him. "I'll show you to our house. It's just on the far side of the village."

"I told you my sister would help us out." Ralof spoke, nudging me gently in the arm.

"I know. Luck surely was on our side today." Farlas concurred. _Twice_, I thought to myself. We were certainly lucky enough not to get killed back in Helgen. My shock from our close encounter with a raging dragon did not wear off yet; it was not a kind of experience I would want to live through again. As Hod led us through Riverwood towards his house, I found myself thinking about what I should do next. I could not hide here; this was Imperial territory, and where was the Empire, the Thalmor could be found as well. It would be foolish to assume the Thalmor would give up pursuing me after all those years. They knew I was alive, that much was certain, and Altmeri dominion always hunted its prey down, no matter what. Maybe I could find shelter among those rebels, Stormcloaks. Even by their arrogance, Thalmor would not dare to venture into their territory.

Suddenly I realized a great risk Gerdur and her family ran by helping us. If the Imperials learned about this, they would be in a great peril. They would be branded traitors and executed or worse, turned in to Thalmor. I separated from the others when they were not looking, and went into the nearby woods. I owed Ralof's sister a debt, and I intended to repay it.

* * *

_Farlas' POV_

"So here we are." Hod spoke as we stood before a large house with a thatched roof. There was a small yard next to the house with a few hens and a cow. "It may not seem like much, but it's a home." He searched his pocket and gave Ralof a small key. "There you go. I need to get back to work; help yourself to anything inside, I'm sure you can't wait to eat something. It was a long day for you after all." Hod then narrowed his eyes like if he searched for something in distance. After a while he finally said. "Where is that elven girl anyway? I swear I saw her with you at the mill."

I looked around in alarm; Falaere was nowhere in sight. _Damn it, woman_, I thought angrily, _couldn't she at least let us know she was planning to go somewhere?_ I put the bag with supplies off my back and handed it to Ralof. "Leave it in the house, would you? I have to find Falaere before she does anything stupid!" I didn't wait for Ralof to answer and set off immediately. However, I managed to make a mere few steps before a stone flew out of nowhere, hitting me in the arm. The next one struck my head.

A high-pitched child voice cut through the air. "Get him, Stump!" _A dog?_ I tried desperately to shake off my sudden disorientation; whoever threw those rocks had quite an arm, even for a child. Before I was able to find that cheeky brat a wolfhound pounced at me, trying to lick my face. If it weren't for Stump's bad breath, I would even find it funny.

"Get away from uncle Ralof, stupid Imperial!" The little attacker ran at me from behind and started pummeling my back with his tiny fists. "Leave ma and pa alone!" As annoying as it was I almost couldn't stop myself from laughing. I was more than capable of holding my own against whoever dared to attack me, yet right now I was getting beaten by a little boy and his pet.

Hod decided to put an end to our little brawl. "FRODNAR!" He yelled at the boy. "What did I tell you about those antics of yours?!" He looked genuinely angry, while Ralof was trying hard to stifle a laugh. The boy, Frodnar, got off my back immediately and stared at the ground in shame. Hod shooed the dog away and gave me an apologetic glance before he turned to his son again. "Go home, you're grounded for the rest of the week, and if I see you pulling a stunt like that again I will put you over my knee!"

"Yes papa." Frodnar muttered and jogged inside the house.

Hod sighed in exasperation. "I'm sorry about that. Ever since Ralof joined the Stormcloaks, Frodnar has been always like this." He said finally.

"He'll be just like me." Ralof jested, ignoring the sharp look Hod gave him. "Don't worry; I'll go talk to him." I didn't answer to him and started running after Falaere, still rubbing my forehead where a rock hit me. I had absolutely no idea what she was up to or where she would go, so I had to ask passers-by, hoping that one of them would point me in the right direction. Most of them told me they were too busy to keep track of newcomers or they simply ignored me. At last I got help from Faendal who saw her heading west by road to Falkreath…and Helgen. I didn't care how Faendal of all people would know where Falaere went, whether he was just curious about a fellow elf in Riverwood or it was…something else. I had to stop her; imperial soldiers were probably scouring the area around Helgen by now, if she got caught again, there would be no one to save her hide.

It took me nearly half an hour of running before I finally found her. She was bathing in the river, her clothing and weapons discarded on a bank. I gasped at the sight of the naked woman, well almost naked, for she decided to keep her smallclothes on while it still was daylight. I had to force myself to turn away, scolding myself for intruding on her privacy like this, even though it was not intentional. I waited a few minutes until she was done and then I approached her carefully.

When I was just a few yards away from her she spoke up as she finished dressing herself. "I hope I did not keep you waiting too long."

I blinked in confusion. How could she possibly know I was there? I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment; I hoped I wouldn't have to explain me seeing her almost naked in the river, and she knew all the time I was there. "How did you know I was here at all?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice even.

"It is quite simple." She replied and collected her weapons, not bothering to look at me. "That armor of yours is rattling like a fully loaded khajiit caravan. Such noise would alert every single Stormcloak nearby." Well, now I'm feeling hurt, another reason for me to get me some new armor, I thought. This Imperial outfit attracted enough attention already.

"Okay, now that you're done making fun of me; why didn't you tell us you were going somewhere? And what exactly are you up to, now that we speak about it." I questioned.

"What I am up to is to try to repay my debt, **our** debt to Gerdur's family." Falaere answered exasperatedly as if I just asked her something incredibly stupid. "And why did I not tell anyone? Because you would scare away any game I might see with that noisy piece of junk you are wearing!" She paused and gave me a strange, suspicious look. "And why do you care, anyway?"

"Because we barely made it out of Helgen alive and now you try your luck and take off to woods, alone!" I argued. "After that dragon attack, the woods might be full of legionnaires scouring the area, let alone brigands waiting for a lone traveler to show up!"

"I can take care of myself!" Falaere snapped back indignantly. "I am not a frail little girl you take me for, and I certainly do not need some babysitter to watch over me!"

I sighed in frustration; this woman was really testing my patience. Now she was behaving like I was only a burden to her after all what happened today; what would be next? Would she pretend she didn't even know me? I bit back my growing anger and spoke, carefully watching my tone. "Your skills wouldn't help you if you found yourself surrounded by bandits, or worse Imperial soldiers. Besides, you won't be able to pay off your debt, if you're dead."

Falaere glowered at me; if one could kill by a look, I would certainly be dead. For a while neither of us said a word; finally Falaere waved her hand in resignation. "Alright, fine, have it your way then. But you will stay back while I'm hunting; I don't want you to scare away all game, are we clear?" She snarled at me.

_Finally we're getting somewhere_, I thought to myself, suppressing a smirk creeping in my face. "Perfectly clear." I replied. "And I'd like to remind you I know a thing or two about keeping quiet." Falaere mumbled something and, grabbing her bow she headed to a nearby wood. I followed her, keeping a reasonable distance between us.

We were scouring the forest for nearly an hour but to no avail, and I really did my best to be quiet. There was simply no game in there. I suggested we head back but Falaere was persistent, heading even deeper to the forest and farther from Riverwood. With every other minute spent in the forest I grew more and more nervous. If we got ambushed here, no one would come to help us; now we were on our own. Suddenly a young stag crossed our path. Falaere gestured me to stop, the stag luckily didn't notice us. She drew her bow and shot an arrow at her prey; she did it so fast it seemed like a one single smooth move to me. The arrow flew right on stag's head; a perfect aim, but a nature was against us. A sudden blow of a wind deflected the arrow from its path and it narrowly missed its target. The stag finally took notice of our presence and started running away.

Falaere cursed under her breath and set off after the stag. I ran after her, but she was much faster and soon I lost sight of her. The wild chase lasted just a few minutes; when I finally caught up with her, Falaere was standing over a dead deer, an arrow sticking out of its throat. She was drenched in sweat and panted heavily, but even though out of breath, she seemed happier than a few hours ago. In fact, I saw her smile genuinely for the first time since I got to know her. I realized how much I underestimated her. She would take care of herself just fine; she wouldn't need me here at a-

"Well well, what have we here?" A gruff voice suddenly echoed, interrupting my thoughts. A half a dozen men emerged from behind a large pile of fallen sticks and displaced trees and encircled us, weapons at ready. Their fur and hide clothing and crudely made iron weapons were screaming a single word: bandits. They must have been following us and waiting for us to let our guard down; if so, then how could I not notice them? Falaere looked around in a terrified manner and reached a grip of her own sword, but I could tell from her moves she was tired after her chase with a deer. She wouldn't last long against those men, if they decided to kill us where we stood.

A tall man in worn iron armor, probably their leader, approached us. "You've wandered where you shouldn't be. That'll cost ya." He said with a grim face while his friends took a step closer to us.

"What are you talking about?" I asked cautiously.

The bandit leader gave me a funny look. "Are you on skooma or something?" He barked. "You're hunting in our woods so you'll have to pay a fine. Simple as that." Well, I wouldn't buy that, but I was no fool to tell that to a bunch of armed thugs, who could tear us into pieces in no time. I had to tread carefully.

"And how was I supposed to know this?" I objected. It was clear this game of mine wouldn't work too long; guys like these weren't known for being patient. But I wanted to give Falaere some time to regain her strength. With a bit of luck we could fight our way out.

"That's your problem, not mine." The leader huffed in annoyance. "Look pal, you're just making it hard for all of us. Just pay up and you can go wherever you want." That man was a really bad liar; that much was clear. I glanced at Falaere; she didn't remove her look from men surrounding us, carefully watching their every move.

"What if we don't have any money?" I asked again. I noticed the bandits growing more and more impatient.

The leader grinned maliciously. "Don't ya worry, lad. We'll think of something." His pals looked at him in confusion but then they smirked knowingly as the leader started eyeing Falaere, his look dark and covetous. "I see who you brought with you; quite a beauty, if you ask me, even though she's a dirty elf." His men laughed in response. I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it one bit. Falaere knew it too, judging by her panicked look as the thugs started closing in.

One of them was bold enough to grab her behind. Falaere jumped away with a yelp, earning a laugh from the rest of bandits. "Do that again and I will cut off your manhood!" She snarled at the assailant.

The man who groped her laughed at her defiance. "Ha! You've got quite a mouth on ya; I'll enjoy watching ya use it!" Another one tried to grab and restrain her, but she kneed him in the groin. The thugs didn't laugh this time, they drew their weapons instead.

This has crossed the line; again, time has come to test what I remembered from my fighting lessons. Back in Cyrodiil, I spent nearly a half of my time sparring with a father of one friend of mine, who was a former legionnaire and an experienced warrior. The man was a true sword-master; I saw him training with a great-sword when I was a young lad, barely able to lift a blade. In these days I thought there was no greater warrior than him; even with such a clunky and clumsy weapon as a great-sword, he was almost unbelievingly fast. Both the weapon and the man wielding it were the reason I started training swordsmanship with him. He was very thorough and made sure I learned everything I needed, no matter how painful it would be sometimes. On more than one occasion I found myself lying on a dusty ground or treating countless cuts and bruises; but in the end, it was worth it.

I unsheathed my great-sword, ready to defend myself from enraged land-pirates. Their leader ignored me, convinced we were no match for him and his friends. "Enough of this! Kill the stupid Imperial, but leave the elf alive! We could have some fun with her, I haven't had a good fu-" He didn't get to finish the sentence as I ran my weapon through his throat before he could raise his own sword.

"You son of a bitch!" His men screamed in outrage and charged. Their blows were clumsy and poor-aimed; all they relied on was their numbers. _This is gonna be easier than I thought_, I thought slyly as I dodged or blocked easily every blow coming on me. Swing, block, sidestep, another swing, sidestep, block, bash, thrust; almost stupidly easy recurrent pattern and it was enough to keep those thugs in bay. The bandits grew increasingly frustrated; apparently they weren't used to standing against someone who was able to fight back. One of them lost his patience and lashed out at me with a scream of fury, giving me an opening by exposing his side. I parried his attack and stabbed him in his gut, then sidestepped and blocked a strike from his friend.

Falaere was faring just as well as me, maybe even better. She moved so fast that no one was able to land a hit on her. Wielding a sword in one hand and destruction spells in the other, she was almost untouchable. There were three men after her while I was playing cat and mouse with the other two and she disposed of them like if they were just a little more than a pestilent insect. Just a few minutes after the fight broke out five corpses were scattered around us.

The last standing thug, who still thought he could take me down, went unsure when he noticed dead bodies of his partners in crime. I took advantage of his hesitation and slashed at his hand, disarming him. The bandit fell on his back and started backing away, his eyes wide with fear. "N-no, please don't kill me! I surrender!" He stammered.

For a moment I toyed with a thought of killing him, but I knew it would be no use. The poor man was probably scared shitless from this encounter; he would never get back to banditry again. "Get out of here." I said finally. "Quickly, for I won't give you another chance." The now former bandit jumped on his feet and ran away from us as fast as he could. To my utter shock, he didn't get far; an arrow flew seemingly out of nowhere and pierced his gullet. The man fell to the ground, making gurgling sounds as he choked on his own blood. I turned to Falaere in confusion, only to find her putting her bow on her back. She snorted in disgust as she watched the corpse of a man who she just shot.

At first, I just stared at her in disbelief, until my anger got the better of me. "What in Oblivion was that supposed to mean?!" I screamed at her.

Falaere seemed completely unfazed by my outburst. "He was a criminal and he got what he deserved." She replied coldly.

"He surrendered!" I shot back. "He was completely defenseless and you shot him like some vermin!"

"So what?!" She yelled at me. I almost made a step back, startled by her surge of anger. I realized I never saw her genuinely angry, not that I wanted to see that. "How many people he and his friends killed until now? How many more he would kill if we let him go?"

"How could you know that?" I argued. "Do you think he would carry on like this after that lesson we taught him?"

Falaere scowled and make a few steps towards me. "I was venturing across Tamriel while you were a small child, you damned fool!" She growled, jabbing her finger in my chest to emphasize her words. "I know who we were dealing with, unlike you. These bastards would pretend to surrender just to stab you in the back later while you were not looking!"

I just stood there, dumbfounded and not able to say a word. As much as I hated to admit it, Falaere was right. She turned away from me and headed back towards Riverwood. "You would not survive a day out there, no matter how skilled swordsman you are." She spoke again, not looking back. "Take the deer; we're heading back." I didn't answer. I went over to the killed stag, slung it over my shoulder and headed after her. We walked merely a few hundred yards when she stopped, looking at something. I followed her gaze and sighted an entrance to an abandoned mine. When I looked closely I noticed footprints in a mud before the entrance; more importantly, the mine was near the place where bandits ambushed us. Could it be their hideout?

"I think I know what you are thinking." Falaere spoke up, suddenly standing beside me; I didn't hear her coming at all. "With a bit of luck it should be empty now. Do you want to look inside?"

I looked at the sky; the sun was already setting, but it was still daylight. "We have time, I suppose." I replied curtly, still a bit angry with her shooting the fleeing land-pirate.

"Alright; we will leave our catch near the entrance, we'll take it with us after we are done here." She said, unsheathing her sword. I nodded and followed her into the mine.

As it turned out, the seemingly abandoned old mine was indeed a bandit lair. We knew that as soon as one of the thugs went to meet us, thinking we were his friends coming back from another raid. He only lived long enough to realize his mistake. Those few bandits who stayed here were completely unaware of our presence, so it was quite easy to get rid of them. In just a few minutes the lair was cleared out; now we could explore the mine without being disturbed. Well, stealing from criminals wouldn't be considered a crime.

Judging by a large chest filled with coin, gems and other valuables, those highwaymen fared quite well in their days of banditry; for such a band of riff-raff, that is. It took us long enough to count all that money; it was almost five hundred septims in total. Add that to the coin I found back in Helgen keep and it would keep us alive for at least a few weeks. Considering that we were supposed to be executed this morning, it was truly a turn to the better. We even found a small forge and some raw materials including several ingots of iron and steel. This would definitely come in handy later.

"You would not get much for selling those, you know." Falaere said disapprovingly as she watched me stuffing ingots into a bag.

"Who said anything about selling that stuff?" I replied with a grin. "Back in Cyrodiil I used to be blacksmith's apprentice. I'm planning to make myself some armor tomorrow; might even make a decent living as a smith. Besides, you should get yourself some armor too, unless you want to get put down for being a Stormcloak." She nodded wordlessly and went to inspect a small rack with weapons, bag filled with valuables clinking on her back.

When we were finally done ransacking the bandit lair, it was already getting dark. Heavy with catch, valuables and other loot, we set out back to the Riverwood.

* * *

"I haven't stuffed myself like this in ages!" Hod groaned, patting his full belly. Ralof opened his mouth to say something, but let out a loud belch instead.

To say that Hod and his family were pleasantly surprised when we got back from the hunt was quite an understatement. Gerdur scolded us for not telling her anything about our plans, but still she was grateful. The stag Falaere cut down wasn't the biggest one but it was still enough for us to make a small feast; it was the best part of this day, aside from nearly getting killed by a dragon. Venison was delicious, but I was careful not to overeat; I did that once and it was not something I would do again. I had to suppress a smile when I imagined how sick Ralof and Hod would be tomorrow.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble just to get us a dinner." Gerdur said and took a swig of ale.

"It was her idea, not mine. She told me what risk you took by helping us and suggested we should do something for you in return." I replied, pointing at Falaere. She sat by the hearth, already done with her meal. I took a few seconds to look at her; her face, illuminated by fire, bore typically sharp elven features, especially her narrow, almost pointy chin marked with a few small scars. She had long dark grey hair with two small braids tied together at the back of her head. Her crimson eyes were fixed on burning fire with a distant, almost melancholic look. Another thing I noticed was a warpaint formed by three lines, running from under her eyes and on her nose, and ending in a point on her forehead; it remotely resembled a bird. During the whole evening, she barely said a word.

"If I may ask; where did you get all the gold?" Ralof spoke up, interrupting my thoughts. "Did you found some hidden treasure or what?"

"A bunch of highwaymen ambushed us while we were hunting." I explained. "We killed them and then we plundered their hidey-hole in an old mine."

Hod and Gerdur just stared at me, mouths agape. "You cleared out old Embershard mine?!" Gerdur spoke after a while of awkward silence. "That bunch of thugs was a terror of the neighborhood! They settled there about a few months ago and been harassing travelers and merchants ever since."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? They didn't seem as much of a problem for us."

"That's because those bastards weren't used to a prey fighting back!" Hod said with a laugh and patted me on my back. "Nice job, you two!"

"Well, there is one more thing you could do for us; in fact, for the whole town." Gerdur said thoughtfully. "With this dragon on the loose, the Riverwood is in danger. The Jarl of Whiterun hold needs to know this, and we need Balgruuf to send his men here, anyone he can spare."

"I'll get the word to the Jarl, you can count on me." I nodded. "How far is it to Whiterun?"

"About four or five hours on foot." Hod answered. "It's a safe road, so you don't want to worry about some thugs blocking your path."

"I'll set out tomorrow." I said, suppressing a yawn; I must've been more tired than I thought.

"If you want to go to sleep, we've got some spare bedrolls here." Hod suggested.

"Much appreciated." I replied wearily.

Hod rose up from the chair and went over to the nearby chest. He took two bedrolls out of it and tossed them to me. "There you go; have a nice sleep."

"Thanks." I muttered and put one bedroll on the ground near the fireplace.

"Going to sleep already?" Falaere asked quietly as I started putting off my armor.

"Yeah." I answered. "Don't tell me today's events didn't tire you out."

"I did not say that. I just do not want to sleep, not yet." She objected and continued staring at the fire. Soon the pieces of armor were piled up on the floor. I slipped into my bedroll, wearing only my undergarments. Falaere and I bid each other good night and soon the world went black as I fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – To Whiterun

_Farlas' POV_

The sun was already high up the sky when I woke up. I crawled out of my bedroll and started putting my armor on, careful not to wake up anyone. Hod and Gerdur were gone, probably working on their mill; Falaere was curled up on the floor next to the fireplace and Ralof was sprawled on his bed, snoring loudly. Yesterday's events took surely took their toll; even I wanted nothing more than to just lay down and sleep for the rest of the day, but I had one important journey to make. Whiterun had to be warned there was a dragon on the loose and Riverwood desperately needed protection. And then… only gods knew. If I were to survive in a harsh land like Skyrim, I had to find some job; at the moment I didn't really care, as long as it earned me some coin, I couldn't afford to be picky. Once I put my armor on I went out of the house and, grabbing duffel with metal ingots and leathers, I headed to the blacksmith.

The blacksmith, big Nord man named Alvor, was quite surprised to see someone who he assumed was an imperial officer at his forge. For a minute I was worried he might start asking questions I couldn't answer without lying but to my relief Alvor wasn't that curious. Well, a trader can't be too picky with his customers after all. I wasn't here to shop however.

"Would you mind if I borrowed your forge for a while?" I asked. I had all material I needed to make myself some decent armor. Wearing that imperial piece of junk would only get me in more trouble.

Alvor scratched his chin thoughtfully and answered. "Well, I don't get many customers here, especially with the war going on. I suppose I see no harm in it, if you know what you're doing, of course. Don't hesitate to ask me, if you need something, I'll be in the house." With that, he left.

I didn't waste any time and started working. The forge hissed like thousand angered snakes as I brought it to a great heat. I reached for the duffel and took a look at material I brought with myself. I had enough metal to put together iron armor and maybe a steel shortsword; I didn't remember exactly how many ingots of metal I would need to forge these. Did I really get out of practice that bad? I ignored my doubts and heated ingots in the forge. Alvor would surely help out, should I have some problems I wasn't able to deal with.

Iron was relatively easy to shape, but that was about the only advantage. Armors and weapons of iron were just a solution for those who couldn't afford to pay for steel. I remembered some tricks Alfhed had taught me when I worked for him as an apprentice back in Cyrodiil. Iron armor was cheap and easy to make, but didn't offer much protection. The solution was quite simple; make thicker plates and add leather to the bottom. Of course, such improvements would never put it quite on par with steel armor, let alone surpass it, but it would be able to withstand more punishment.

About an hour later I finished the last piece of puzzle and took a long look at my handiwork. The armor wasn't exactly the best thing I have ever made; the chestplate was slightly misshapen and the shoulder guards weren't the same size, but otherwise it looked quite good, considering it was a long time since I last worked at the forge. I also made sure all metal plates were properly fastened and didn't make noise like the armor I had 'borrowed' from a dead legionnaire back in Helgen. Even though working the forge was quite a tedious work, I didn't stop to have a rest. I didn't forget about the travel to Whiterun and the message I was supposed to give the Jarl of this hold and I had yet to make some boots and gloves to finish the whole set. That would take another hour at least so I didn't have much time to rest, should I get to Whiterun before dusk. I donned my handiwork and continued working.

After another hour of hammering and shaping the heated metal I was finally finished. The work helped me to recall the most of knowledge and smithing techniques I had learned so the gloves and boots looked quite decent compared to the cuirass. I couldn't help but wonder why didn't I start with them and make the cuirass as the last…A sudden commotion in the streets interrupted my thoughts; a sound of several voices arguing. I left the imperial attire lying on the ground and went to see what was going on.

* * *

_Hadvar's POV_

"What's the matter with you?"

I looked up and saw my uncle Alvor standing at the table and giving me a stern look. "Nothing; I'm fine." I answered. It was an obvious lie; I knew that and Alvor undoubtedly knew it too. But I just couldn't bring myself to talk about yesterday, about the black winged beast that ravaged Helgen and slaughtered townsfolk and the most of our soldiers; some of them were my friends and I couldn't do a damned thing to stop them from being killed. I had to watch as the dragon burned them to ash or tore them to pieces with its jaws and claws.

I shook involuntarily as the memories started flooding my mind. I saw it as clearly as if I was there; soldiers escorting panicking civilians to safety and shooting arrows at winged foe, not knowing their effort was futile. The dragon was nearly invincible and it knew that; it flew above us in circles as if it was taunting us and it launched fury of fire and fangs upon us. Even the townsfolk weren't safe within their houses. As our ranks grew thinner, even general Tullius lost his nerve and ordered us to retreat. There was just a handful of legionnaires left of Helgen garrison when the dragon flew away. Apparently it lost its interest in a prey which didn't fight back. When assured the beast wouldn't come back to finish what it started, Tullius gave the remaining men a few days off and then he headed to Solitude. The Emperor had to know what happened in Helgen and it was for sure he wouldn't be happy, especially when the traitor Ulfric managed to slip through our fingers. I could only hope the dragon found him and took him to Sovngarde.

I gave my uncle quite a scare when I showed up in Riverwood with burnt uniform and covered in soot. At least it was easier to convince Alvor that everything about a dragon leveling Helgen with the ground was true. To say he was surprised would be a monumental understatement. Alvor, seeing how tired I was from the whole ordeal, let me stay overnight in his house. I was more than grateful; a long sleep was exactly what I needed and I fell asleep as soon as I turned in. But the rest wasn't as peaceful as I hoped; even while asleep I could hear the deafening roar and fiery red furious eyes of the flying reptile abomination as it plagued my dreams. It made me wake up in the middle of the night more than once. I could only wonder when the nightmares would finally stop.

"Look Hadvar," Alvor said, interrupting my chain of thoughts. "If you're worried I would think you're mad then don't; I trust you. Besides, I already spoke with folks around here this morning. They say the legionnaires found Helgen completely burned to the ground. There's no other possible explanation other than what you told me yesterday. It definitely was a dragon." My uncle chuckled a bit. "Hell, even old Hilde said she had saw that thing flying around here."

"Hilde?" I blurted out in bewilderment. "That old lady had spent way too much time with Sheogorath, if you catch my meaning."

Alvor threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. "Well, she's apparently not as crazy as we thought. Still, the dragon's a bad news. Helgen was a fortified town and that thing just tore it apart; I shudder to think what would happen if it appeared here."

"What do you need me to do?" I asked without thinking. These people were in grave danger and I wanted to help.

Alvor waved his hand. "Let me take care of it, Hadvar. You should get something to eat; you won't be much use to the Legion if you're half-starved, especially when fighting that gods-damned lizard."

I nodded wordlessly, uncle was right. He knew exactly what to do; my only concern was to rejoin the Legion as soon as I could. We had to be prepared to keep dragons from attacking another village or a city. I had my doubts about the latter though; those beasts were more dangerous than anything I've seen before, but I didn't believe they were invincible. Yes, it would take many men to take down one of those, there would certainly be great losses, but eventually we could kill it. Besides even by their immense strength, the dragons wouldn't dare to attack a well-defended city. As the old saying goes, even an animal knows better than to stick its nose where it hurts.

I got up from chair to get me some food from the pantry; it was then when we heard noise coming out of the street, several people shouting. What could be possibly happening to cause a stir like this?

Alvor came up with a possible explanation almost immediately. "Are Sven and Faendal fighting over Lucan's sister again?" He mumbled and shook his head in disbelief. "Those young dolts never know when to stop. I swear if they don't knock it off…"

I stopped him in mid-sentence. "I'll go settle this." I said and headed to the door.

"Thanks Hadvar." Alvor replied gratefully. "They're snapping at each other like this for weeks and their squabbling is getting on my nerves."

I opened the door and walked outside uncle's house, thinking of the best way to solve the dispute. Of course both Sven and Faendal were pig-headed fools and they would prefer to brawl over listening to a reason. In the end, if any of them wouldn't listen, a punch or two might just do the trick, I decided. However, nothing could prepare me for a sight that greeted me the moment I left the house.

Three Imperial soldiers, the regular infantrymen, were closing in on an Elven woman in a Stormcloak uniform. That was strange; during my whole career as a soldier I have never seen an Elf among the ranks of Ulfric's lackeys. While I didn't recognize any of the legionnaires, the woman looked familiar to me, but I couldn't recall whence I knew her.

"Your precious Ulfric must be really desperate if he's recruiting Elves in his pitiful army!" One of the soldiers sneered at her. His friends laughed in response. The woman watched the soldiers carefully, her arm hovering over the grip of her sword. She was quite reluctant to start a fight with three full-armed soldiers; that much was clear from the way she moved, but she was still ready to defend herself, if the Imperials tried something. None of them noticed me standing nearby…yet.

"Wearing this uniform is an insult to the Empire!" Bellowed another soldier and turned to the one who spoke earlier. "What do you think, Albecius? What should we do with that insolent bitch?"

His friend, the one named Albecius, thought for a moment and then smirked evilly. "And when I thought this day would be boring…" He mumbled for himself and then he exclaimed. "She wears a Stormcloak uniform in our territory and she needs to be taught a lesson; we should just rip it off of her, unless she is willing to do it herself."

"Please, leave me alone. I do not want any trouble." The woman said silently. The sudden realization dawned on me as soon as I heard that voice. Just then I saw it as clear as a day; a small, dirty woman, trembling in fear and stepping off the cart along with other prisoners, her eyes begging for mercy. She was in Helgen; she and the Imperial, whose name I couldn't recall, both were in a wrong place at the wrong time…and I sent them both to their deaths. It wasn't my fault, I was just following orders. I am a mere minor officer, a little more than a regular grunt; I had no right to even object to the order, and to refuse to carry it out…I could as well go line up to the block with the others. But as much as I justified myself, it didn't help me to feel less guilty about it.

I got lost in my thought momentarily and almost forgot to take in the conversation. "A little too late for that, lady!" One of the legionnaires barked at her rather impatiently. "Take those rags off!"

"Or we can help you with that; more fun for us anyway!" The Albecius guy laughed cruelly. The elven woman started backing off only to make the soldiers draw their weapons at her. This was going too far, I said to myself and took a few steps towards the group; but I stopped dead in my track as I heard another familiar voice.

"What in Oblivion is going on here?!" The Imperials stopped and turned around. I followed their gaze and saw an angry man in crude iron armor. At first I couldn't place him, but one look at the war-paint over his left eye and I knew. Another innocent person I nearly got killed yesterday; world truly was getting smaller. The man took a few steps closer to the soldiers, giving them a very nasty look. "Don't you have something better to do with your time than harassing women?" He yelled at them.

"Mind your own damn business, Nord yokel!" Albacius snapped back. "We're teaching the Stormcloak cunt here some manners!"

"Are you looking for trouble?" The other soldier challenged. "Do you want us to throw you in jail for obstruction of justice?"

The iron-clad man crossed his arms. "If you're trying to intimidate me, it's not working." He said in unimpressed manner. "I may be just a Nord yokel, but I will still punch your face in if I have to. Now back off." He had courage; I had to give him credit for that.

The addressed frowned and his face went red with anger. Albacius pointed his sword at the intruder. "Now you're asking for a blade in your gut, bastard!" He screamed irately. "That should teach you how to speak to your betters…"

I cut him off before the whole situation came to a head. "That's enough, everyone!" Everyone jerked their heads in my direction; no one knew I was standing there the whole time. The soldiers and the woman they harassed looked at me in surprise, while the iron-clad Imperial didn't look particularly pleased to see me, not that I blamed him. I turned to the legionnaires and said sternly "That woman is under my watch and I suggest you all to refrain from bothering her again." My acquaintances from Helgen now looked genuinely taken aback by my action.

On the contrary, the Imperial soldiers weren't pleased at all with my decision. "Who is she to you, pal? A bed buddy?" Albacius said scornfully. I had to suppress a smirk; the moron had no idea I outranked him, no matter how little.

"My report will mention this behavior, soldier." I replied, giving him a patronizing smile. "What unit are you from?"

Albacius gave me an irritated glare. "Who in Oblivion do you think you are?" One of his friends suddenly gave him a nudge, his eyes wide with horror.

"You're speaking to an officer, jackass!" He hissed at him. Albacius stared at him blankly for a moment before he snapped out of it and straightened up, stammering an apology.

"S-sir…I didn't recognize you, sir. This won't happen again, I swear!"

"Yeah, show some respect to your betters!" The iron-clad man called out tauntingly. Albacius glared at him but he kept his mouth shut.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and replied. "You better make sure it won't happen again, because you're not getting away with it next time. You're dismissed."

The soldiers saluted and went their own way, muttering among themselves. They were clearly annoyed about the whole thing, but they were smart enough to keep quiet about it. I sighed mentally; not many people supported the Empire's presence in Skyrim, and the likes of Albacius and his friends only made it worse. The ordinary folks were just afraid of what the future might bring and I didn't blame them for it. But the Stormcloaks… they were a whole another matter. They were a bunch of disgruntled barbarians, blinded by their leader and his talk about freedom, Talos, and Empire trying to destroy everything Nords stand for. Only if those fools knew their so glorious leader was just using them to further his goals. Ulfric never cared about the fate of Skyrim and her people; he craved for power and his true goal was to become a High-king. He was doomed to Oblivion the very moment he murdered Torygg in cold blood and it was only a matter of time before he would be given a taste of justice.

After the troublesome legionnaires were away, I made a few steps towards the elven woman. I expected her to thank me at least; I had to lie to stop those men from assaulting her. But instead she just crossed her arms and gave me an icy glare. "I sincerely hope you are not expecting a 'thank you'." She said coldly.

For a brief moment I just stood there, taken aback by her response before I could come up with an answer. "I could have just stood here and watched as those idiots maul you, so I expected you to be at least a bit grateful." I shot back.

The iron clad Imperial just snorted in disbelief. "What did you expect after nearly getting her killed?"

They knew who I was and it was clear where this conversation would be going. "Is this about yesterday? I followed an order, it was nothing personal." I answered plainly, my voice devoid of any emotion. They didn't need to know even I was conflicted about the Captain's decision.

The former convict scowled. "Is that it?" He said incredulously. "I'm surprised the Empire hasn't fallen yet, if their soldiers follow blindly all orders, even those which don't make any sense." He added with venom.

"What do you know? You're not a soldier!" I barked at him. His biting remarks about the Empire were driving me mad. He would fit in well with the Stormcloaks, which was kind of ironic considering he was an Imperial.

He seemed completely unfazed by my response. "You're right, Hadvar, I'm no soldier. But I do know a difference between a soldier and a puppet." He replied at last. His voice was solemn but I still could hear some bitterness in it. I opened my mouth to reply when I realized I didn't know what to say; I was utterly dumbfounded by his reply. Why would one of the people of Cyrodiil hold such resentment towards the Empire? Had he served in the Legion at some point? If so, what would cause him to turn against everything he was to protect? Or did he have a whole another kind of history with the Empire? I just couldn't comprehend any of it. For a moment I was tempted to ask the man what exactly was his problem with the Empire but then I decided against it; I had no interest in aggravating him even more.

Besides, the iron-clad Imperial from Helgen had nothing more to say to me. Instead he spoke to his Bosmer companion. "I'm heading to Whiterun in a few hours. If you want to join me, you'll find me either at the forge or in Hod's house." The elven woman faintly nodded. The Imperial went back to my uncle's forge, but then he turned around once more. "And if I may; you really should get rid of those Stormcloak rags. I don't want you to get yourself killed just because of a simple misunderstanding!"

A moment passed and both survivors were gone, going separate ways. I lingered just a while longer before I headed back to Alvor's house.

* * *

_Falaere's POV_

It was not long after noon. Leaning on a wooden fence surrounding Sleeping Giant inn, I looked around Riverwood. The people were too busy with their own work to even notice an obvious stranger like me; it would be no surprise if no one here knew about the disaster at Helgen yet; aside from the senile old lady I saw yesterday but I doubted anyone would listen to her if her own son treated her like if she was crazy. Well, when the news arrived in here, the village would be most certainly in uproar, that much was certain.

While I was waiting for Farlas to finish whatever he was doing before we would set out to Whiterun, I failed to notice an older man passing, or rather staggering by. He only stopped when he saw me standing nearby and, flashing an idiotic grin, he asked me 'what were two fine ladies doing out here all alone'. His breath reeked of alcohol so badly it was almost painful. I chose to simply ignore the very obviously drunk Nord, keeping the disgust off my face. The drunkard stood there for a while and then he staggered into the inn; he was probably convinced I was just some kind of hallucination.

When he was out of sight, I sighed, smoothening wrinkles on my studded armor I bought at the blacksmith recently. It was a bit loose and worn and it did not offer much protection but then again it was considerably cheaper. True, I had more than enough money after splitting the loot from bandit lair but it was not my custom to spend it all at once. Besides, having my armor made to order would take too much time; we needed to get to Whiterun before the dusk. Plus, I needed to get rid of the Stormcloak uniform; I already learned my lesson from the incident in the morning. If I understood correctly, the rebel army never recruited Elves for some reason but that fact did not stop the legionnaires from threatening me. Maybe they just wanted to wreak their anger on somebody and I was a convenient victim, maybe they just hated Elves and the fact I wore the damn rebel armor gave them a good excuse.

I was grateful when Farlas and unexpectedly Hadvar stood up for me, even though I certainly would not admit to the latter. Orders or not, he and his superiors sentenced us to death just because we unknowingly stumbled upon the battle and the idiots thought we were with rebels. I would never learn what exactly made them think so but their 'mistake' nearly cost us life. And he even had the nerve to reprove me for not thanking him for his help… Even though he did save me from getting beaten up, I was not willing to trust him, or any other Imperial for that matter. Farlas apparently thought the same, which was surprising considering he was an Imperial himself, but it was not my business to know. We barely knew each other, after all.

Farlas took his time before he finally showed up; fully armored and carrying a bag over his shoulder, he talked to Ralof, our mutual acquaintance from Helgen. They were in a middle of some debate; whatever they were talking about was quite personal for Ralof. Only when they got closer I started to recognize words.

"… you've seen how low the Empire sank. I mean; torturing people because of their faith? Executing them for their opinions and beliefs? Letting some damn Elves enslave us like pets?" Ralof rambled angrily, while Farlas only half-listened to him, clearly thinking about something else. "Someone has to rise up and put a stop to all this! Look what they were going to do to you and your friend! We need more people who are willing to fight for the right cause. Despite what my brothers and sisters in arms might think, Imperial or not, we would gladly accept…"

"Look, Ralof." Farlas spoke up and interrupted his ranting. "I don't like the Empire any more than you do, and I really do understand what the Stormcloaks are trying to accomplish. But I don't want to make enemies while I'm still new to this country. I need some time to think about all this."

Ralof looked a bit shocked about the polite rejection, but to his credit he kept calm. "Yes, there is no sense in rushing anything I suppose." He replied approvingly, though a bit disappointed. "But if you eventually do decide to join up, come to Windhelm and we will welcome you with open arms."

I had to roll my eyes while they were chatting, completely ignoring my presence. "So if you two are done talking, I think we have places to go." I spoke to get their attention.

Both men jumped in surprise and turned around. "Sorry, I didn't notice you there. Ralof was trying to talk me into joining the Stormcloaks." Farlas said, giving me an apologetic smile.

"You should think about it too." Ralof added.

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought the rebels do not recruit Mer."

"Well, my people don't trust easily, and there was always a bad blood between us and Elves." Ralof explained. He looked a bit uncomfortable when he mentioned the animosity between Nords and Elves. "Most Nords would be suspicious of you, no offense. But you helped me get out of Helgen alive, so you're already a friend in my books." He finished with a grin.

I had to agree with Farlas on this; in our situation, getting involved in the civil war would not be a smart move. Besides, the last thing I needed was to draw any attention to myself. The Dominion branded my family as traitors and Thalmor agents would do their best to find and end the only survivor: me. The local Imperial authorities did not know who I am, but that could change any time. I was sure the very moment they learned my true identity they would join my pursuers in their hunt. I needed to lay low and find someplace safe, where they would not look for me; but where? Regardless of the civil war, the Empire still had half of Skyrim in their pocket… Wait. What about the rebel territory?

"When you two were talking earlier, you mentioned Windhelm. That's in the Stormcloak territory, correct?" I asked tentatively. I had to choose my words carefully; Ralof did not need to know I am a fugitive from the Dominion. If the Nords were as suspicious of strangers as Ralof told me, they might even think I am an Imperial spy.

"Yes, it's a center of the rebellion and a seat of Ulfric Stormcloak, our leader." Ralof announced proudly. "We have also established bases in Dawnstar, Winterhold and Riften. Why do you ask; thinking of joining already?"

I shook my head in response. "No, but I feel quite uncomfortable around imperial soldiers. I was thinking of moving somewhere quiet in the Stormcloak territory, where they would not bother me."

"You don't think much of the Empire either, eh?" Ralof laughed. Fortunately, he did not look through my little lie. "Don't worry; you won't have to run away once we're finished with the Imperials." At the moment, I truly wished I had his confidence.

"Sorry but we'll have to go. We lingered here long enough." Farlas interrupted.

"Aye, the message will not deliver itself, will it?" Ralof joked. "Well, safe travels, friends. I'd walk you out but I need to take care of some unfinished business. I hope we'll meet in Windhelm someday."

"Same here, Ralof." Farlas replied as him and Ralof shook hands. I nearly yelped in surprise when he gave me a handshake too; I did not expect such a strong grip, even from him. Shortly after we said goodbyes and parted ways; no telling whether we would meet again.

And so we set out for a journey to Whiterun. The road led through the woods near the river and along rocks towering over treetops. Even though the road was supposedly free of any danger, we were on our guard. Just because you do not see the danger does not mean there is no danger at all. Animals like wolves usually lied in ambush, hidden from eyes of their prey, including men. When the target realized it was attacked, it was usually too late. The same was true for highwaymen, except there was a chance they would leave their victim alive, however small. But it seemed we were lucky; we were walking nearly two hours and we only met a few lone travelers. There were no legionnaires or rebels, bandits or pack of wolves, nothing. Meanwhile the path strayed back to the familiar river which flowed right next to Riverwood. In the distance I could see the woods thinning out gradually and far behind them there were vast grassy plains. With a bit of luck we would arrive before dusk, however a lot could change during the journey.

We walked in silence; neither of us was in mood for talking. If I were to guess, Farlas thought about what to do after delivering the warning about the dragon attack, just as I did. I did not know what his plans were but I intended to hide somewhere in the rebel territory. Agents of the Dominion were very persistent in pursuing their goals, but they were not stupid to step on the Stormcloak ground. Or would they? Even though Skyrim was a whole new experience for me, I could tell the war was not going well for rebels. The Imperials already managed once to capture their leader; were it not for the dragon, the rebellion would be crushed by a single swing of an axe. Who was to say the Legion would not catch him again someday? Sooner or later the Stormcloaks would be routed, the Empire would move in and once again I would have to run away. But how long could I keep this up? I could not hide from them forever and I knew that yet I still kept running away. For the past twenty years survival was all that mattered to me and more than once I was forced to resort to thievery and other kinds of crime. I had no friends and I did not hesitate to push away those who might have cared for me just because I was afraid they would betray me at some point. Sometimes I was sick of all this and it made me wonder how I kept going; sometimes I did not care at all.

I decided to save my thoughts for later; right now I needed to focus on the present. I tried to strike a conversation with my companion to stop my mind from wandering. "What are you going to do once we pass our message?"

Farlas shrugged. "Well, I planned on settling down somewhere nice and quiet, getting some decent job, that kind of thing. But I haven't planned on anything particular yet. We'll see after our job is done." That man should be grateful he does not have to worry about problems like I have, I thought to myself. "What about you? You told me you were travelling for twenty winters now. Settled life doesn't suit you?" He asked me.

Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat. I never told anyone who I am, or my story and I certainly did not tell some random stranger. Even though Farlas seemed like a fairly decent man, but we knew each other only a few days. I could not trust him, not yet. Lying was an art I mastered on my own; I could make up almost everything and very quickly and most of the time without any regrets. It was for sake of my survival. "I see no point in staying in one place when there is a whole world outside waiting for you." I said finally, trying to sound convincing.

Farlas grinned with amusement. "An adventurer, eh? You do seem to know quite a lot about the world."

"I know enough to keep myself alive." I replied and then asked again. "Why have you left Cyrodiil? And why Skyrim of all places?"

Farlas scowled and fell silent for a minute. When he spoke again he sounded sorrowful. "Life in Cyrodiil became more and more difficult after the Great war and in the end I had to leave. It's a personal matter so I'll leave it at that." He sighed and continued. "As for Skyrim, I heard many stories and legends about this country and it sort of attracted me. My father being a Nord may have something to do with it." He finished with a laugh, albeit weak and hollow.

"Sorry, I did not mean to pry." I mumbled apologetically. I should have kept my mouth shut, I scolded myself.

And that is what I did; I was silent for the rest of our journey. As time passed and the sun started setting, the landscape changed around us as we walked. The path led down to the lowlands, twisting along the slope. The woods vanished gradually and changed into wide plains I saw earlier. Further away there was a city build on a small hill, surrounded by several buildings which looked like farms. There was no doubt about where we were; that city had to be our destination, Whiterun. It would not be long before we finished our business… and most likely part our ways.

The sun was setting and it was slowly getting dark. We sped up a little and soon enough we walked past houses outside the city. Indeed it was mostly farms and a few windmills, aside from a large building named 'Honningbrew meadery'; that was obvious enough, when the air nearby was thick with a mild scent of alcoholic beverage Nords were so fond of. Local guards were looking at us as we passed; even though their faces were hidden behind their closed helmets, it was more than obvious they were suspicious towards strangers. I also noticed the guards were more tense than usual, like if they were expecting something bad to happen. No one tried to detain us but I could help but feel like I was being watched constantly. I decided to ignore unfriendly glares; guards have the right to be wary when two armed strangers suddenly show up at the gates of the city.

When we walked past another farmhouse a noise of clanking weapons and battle cry reached our ears. Farlas stepped off the path and went to investigate the source of the noise, beckoning me silently to follow him. We made just a few steps when we finally saw what was going on… and Farlas reached for his greatsword.

Three armed people, man and two women were fighting a tall monstrosity clothed in animal hide. The thing vaguely resembled a man but it was double, maybe triple the height of one. It was swinging a huge club thing at the warriors. The bulky man clad in steel armor and a dark-haired woman in some kind of light armor fought back fiercely while dodging the giant's clumsy swings. The other woman stood further away and fired arrows at the monster; she stood out the most with her fiery red hair, green claw-mark war paint and her rather revealing leather outfit. Even though outnumbered and wounded, the beast refused to go down.

"We need to help them." Farlas muttered and took a combat stance. "It's time to put your skills with that thing to the test!" He spoke, pointing at the bow slung over my back. "I'll go in and draw the giant's attention; you try to put it down from afar!" Then he ran straight into the battle, his weapon raised high. "And try not to hit me!" He called over his shoulder.

I suppressed a grin creeping upon my lips and took aim with my bow. The giant's movements were slow and clumsy due to its enormous size, which made my work easier. Farlas had already joined the battling warriors and managed to hit the monster once before nearly getting smashed by the club. They kept their distance from the enraged monster; a single blow could kill them on spot. I released the first arrow; it flew and struck the giant straight into the neck. The monster howled in pain but despite its wounds it was still far from done. Suddenly it lashed out at the dark-haired woman with surprising speed; Farlas reacted quickly and shoved her out of the way, barely dodging the swipe himself. Another arrow, this time from the redhead, lodged itself into the monstrosity's chest and made it stagger. The steel clad man took his chance and hacked at giant's leg. It groaned in pain and dropped to one knee, too exhausted and wounded to keep fighting. I decided to end its suffering and fired another arrow which hit the giant in the eye. It collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, dead.

Farlas sheathed his bloodied weapon and checked the others for wounds. We got off lucky, no one was wounded. I walked to the corpse and examined it; it had numerous cuts and gashes all over its body and several arrows were sticking out from its torso. The giant was very dead, that much was certain.

"We did it… We killed it." The dark-haired woman whispered with a quivering voice, still shaken after her narrow escape from death. The steel clad man only grunted in agreement, leaning on his sword.

"That we did." I nearly jumped in surprise when I heard the voice next to me. The redhead walked past me with a low chuckle. Her clothing indeed revealed more than it covered, including her back, and left not much to imagination. She nodded at her associates and gave Farlas a long appraising look. "You handle yourself quite well… You would make a decent Shield-brother." She said at last, making Farlas quite uncomfortable with her exposing clothing.

Shield-brother? I had no idea what exactly did she mean by that. Farlas tilted his head curiously. "Shield-brother? So you're from Fighters guild then?"

The woman smirked and shook her head. "Not that, but something at least just as good. We are the Companions, an order of warriors and brothers and sisters in honor. We show up to solve problems, if the coin is good enough."

"So you are mercenaries." I stated plainly, causing the woman to shoot me a nasty glare.

"Have you ever seen a mercenary with honor, who would care about more than just money?" She asked me coldly. I never had to deal with mercenaries before, so I did not know what to expect of them. The redhead apparently took the word as an insult; when I did not answer, she scoffed. "That's what I thought."

"Do you accept new members?" Farlas asked. I resisted the urge to grimace at his choice of job; not my place to judge anyway.

"Only the worthy ones." She replied emotionlessly. "If you really think about joining, come to Jorrvaskr and talk to Kodlak Whitemane. He will decide if you're good enough." Then she turned her attention to me. "If you change your mind you're also welcome to try your luck. Jorrvaskr could use another skilled archer… and I would enjoy a competition." Then she started walking further into the plains, followed by her fellow warriors.

"You really should consider joining us. New faces around are always welcome." The steel clad Nord told Farlas before he walked after the redhead archer. We watched them until they vanished out of sight.

"Are you really going to join them?" I asked Farlas.

"I don't know, maybe I will. It's not like I have many options right now." He replied. "Come on, we still have a job to do, remember?"

We walked past the stables and a through the half-collapsed gate, where a khajiit caravan was packing up, preparing for a travel. The city of Whiterun looked bigger up close; it could house at least a few hundreds of people and its tall walls with numerous watchtowers looked capable of holding off any kind of attack… if it was not a dragon attacking, of course. Guards were giving us strange looks, which did not surprise me, but otherwise they minded their own business and lit up fires as the dusk was falling. We crossed the drawbridge over a moat and then we found ourselves before a gateway into the city.

Suddenly a guard blocked our path. "Halt!" _She_ commanded in a stern voice. A woman on a guard duty is not something you see every day. "The city is closed with dragons about. Official business only."

"We have a message of an utmost importance." Farlas replied cooly.

The male guard at the gate snorted in derision. "We don't let in every riff-raff just because they claim to bear important news. Not in times like these." Did these men not know the meaning of the phrase 'utmost importance'?

I noticed Farlas' face go red in annoyance. "Look, we don't have time for this nonsense." He exclaimed angrily. "Just yesterday we saw Helgen getting burned to the ground by a damn dragon! Riverwood is within a spitting distance from there and needs help as soon as pos-"

The guardswoman raised her hand. "Alright, we'll let you in. No need to get all excited now, right?" She stepped to the gate and let us into the city. When we passed her she added. "You better take this to the Jarl right away. He resides in Dragon's Reach, the palace on the peak of the hill. He usually doesn't receive visitor this late, but in this case he'll make an exception."

The gate closed behind us with a low thud and isolated the city from the outer world. It was time to pay a visit to the Jarl.

* * *

_Author's note: Sorry for the late update. The school proved to be rather difficult this year. I'm trying hard to keep up but I'm still a bit behind schedule, so I had little to no time to write anything. Now during holidays I will try to update as frequently as I can. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story so far, and I would welcome any feedback._

_Another (technical) note: I read somewhere once that if Skyrim were real, it would be the size of a Poland. In the game, you can get across the whole province in a single day, so in this fic, everything will be _bigger_, including the cities and villages, and travelling will take more time. Just in case you were wondering..._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Fetch the tablet!

_Falaere's POV_

The dusk was falling quickly upon Skyrim.

The streets of Whiterun, lit by bonfires, were mostly empty, save for the guards and a few people heading for the local inn. The city was divided distinctly into districts; the one we just walked through was mostly filled with various shops, which were closed at the time. Of course there were also homes of townspeople nearby, but those stood further away from the main street. We walked up to the local market, which was closed like the rest of the shops. From there, the street led us up the stairs to the small square dominated by a spreading doddered tree. It sure looked majestic, even though it was dead. The square was a part of another district, built above the shops and the market. As far as I could tell, this part of the city was solely a residential district, where the wealthier of the townspeople lived. There was also a large temple and a shrine of Talos, the god of Men and one of many causes of the civil war. I paused to look at a statue of a patron of Men; Talos was depicted as a tall bearded man clad in bulky armor, wielding a huge sword. A serpent-like creature lay at his feet, impaled by the god's mighty weapon. To our right and behind the Talos' shrine, there stood a large building resembling a ship laid upside down. There were various weapons and shields hanged on its walls. While its purpose was unknown to me, the building must have held some significance to Farlas, because I saw him smile for a brief moment.

The stairway across from us led up to the large palace, which sat upon the top of the hill, overlooking the entire city. This was the Jarl's residence, Dragon's Reach. I went quickly up the stairs and dragged Farlas along. He seemed more interested in looking around Whiterun so I had to remind him of our purpose here. On the other hand, I could see why this city intrigued him. It was nothing like cities in Cyrodiil, where streets crowded with people and omnipresent noise always made me uneasy. On the contrary, Whiterun looked actually nice with its low houses made of wood and stone and it seemed remarkably peaceful; a good place to settle in.

It did not take long before we stood in front of the Jarl's palace. No one stopped us from going inside, so we opened the door and entered the building. The interior of the palace looked certainly impressive; it definitely matched the status of the man who ruled this city. The great two-leveled hall was furnished with carpets and rather expensive looking furniture; walls were decorated with trophies, beautifully crafted weapons and banners of Whiterun hanging from the upper level. Past the stairs the hall became broader; there was a fireplace in the middle, surrounded by two long banquet tables. At the very end of the hall a throne was placed, right under a great dragon skull hanged on the wall. For a minute I could not help but wonder how mere mortals could be able to bring down one of those. Maybe they found the dragon already dead or they encountered the weaker of its kind, I reasoned.

One of the guards in the hall approached us. "If you've got something to tell the Jarl you'd better not waste too much of his time. Balgruuf is not in the mood right now." He said sternly and jerked his head in the throne's direction. Jarl Balgruuf was a tall fair-haired man with a goatee, probably in his fifties. He was debating with a short bald man; whatever they were talking about, it made the Jarl quite upset.

Farlas let out a sigh; I could tell he was nervous. That was understandable given the Jarl's state of mind. One should always weigh his words when talking to a royalty; at this particular case even more so. "Would you mind if I did the talking?" He asked. I shook my head. As a native of Cyrodiil he would be better suited for this than me. I would probably mess everything up.

We slowly made our way towards the Jarl who was now grumbling something about 'not having a time for this nonsense' and his hold dealing with more pressing matters. The bald man must have been some sort of a councilor and the Jarl was very obviously not satisfied with his help. When we climbed the stairs I noticed a few other people nearby; a large Nord man clothed in a scaled armor who bore a striking resemblance to the Jarl, robed man with a hood over his head sitting at the table who paid no attention to his surroundings, a few guardsmen, a boy arguing with a girl in a corner. There was also a Dunmer woman standing next to the throne. She wore a leather armor darkened by years of usage and a sword hanged at her belt. I assumed she was the Jarl's personal guard. The redheaded Dunmer noticed us and her red eyes narrowed in suspicion. She drew her sword and approached us cautiously.

"Halt!"

We stopped dead in our tracks as she called out. The hall suddenly felt silent and everyone just stared at us. "What is the meaning of this interruption? The Jarl's not receiving any visitors." The bodyguard questioned harshly. She had her sword at the ready in case we attempted to attack anyone. We did not even do anything and she already perceived us as a threat; either the Jarl was paranoid or the Dunmer took her job a little too seriously.

Farlas gave me a soft nudge and he extended his arms with palms facing outwards; familiar gesture meaning 'I mean no harm'. I imitated his move. "We have an important message from Riverwood." He announced smoothly. The bodyguard relaxed slightly but did not lower her blade.

"What is the message?"

"I was asked to take it directly to the Jarl." Farlas replied.

The Dunmer frowned. "Look, either tell me what it is you want or stop wasting my time and leave!" She barked at him. Farlas flinched a little but otherwise remained calm.

"It's alright, Irileth, let them pass. I'll hear them out." Balgruuf spoke suddenly; his deep authoritative voice echoed through the hall. The Dunmer bowed to her master and stepped aside, letting us near him. "So, what message do you bring at this late time?" He asked as we stood before him.

Farlas bowed slightly and started talking. "My lord, Riverwood needs your help. Helgen was burnt down by a dragon yesterday and people are afraid it would attack Riverwood next."

At the mention of a dragon everyone in the hall just froze. Jarl Balgruuf masked his shock well, as did his bodyguard Irileth. The others were completely stunned by the news; a few guards whispered excitedly among themselves, while the others just gaped in silence, including the bald councilor. "A dragon?" The Jarl said at last. "How do you know it was a dragon?"

"Because we were there when it attacked." I answered rather bluntly, leaving out the fact we were lined up to the block along with captured rebels and their leader. Farlas gave me a sharp look but remained silent.

The Jarl rested his head in his hand; he had trouble taking in what he had just learned. "Ysmir's mercy, Irileth was right…" He spoke to himself and then raised his head again. "This is grave news. Do you still believe we should continue to trust in the strength of our walls, Proventus?" He asked his councilor. Proventus remained silent.

Irileth chose this moment to speak. "If I may, my lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger if that dragon is lurking in the mountains…"

Proventus interrupted her. "The Jarl of Falkreath will view this as a provocation! He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him!" He objected heatedly.

"You're worried about Siddgeir?" Balgruuf exclaimed incredulously. "That spoiled incompetent milk-drinker doesn't give a damn about what's happening in his hold! Why should he care about what his neighbors are doing?" He spoke, voice dripping with venom. "Besides I'm not going to stand idly by while that scaled abomination burns my hold and slaughters my people!" He turned to Irileth and ordered. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl." Irileth bowed and ran quickly out of the hall.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties." Proventus said and took his leave.

"That would be best." Balgruuf muttered to himself before turning to us. "Well done; you sought me out on your own initiative." He spoke again as he contemplated us. He seemed genuinely grateful for the warning of the dragon even though the news frightened him. Given the recent events the Jarl had the right to be afraid.

"Actually, Gerdur of Riverwood asked us to deliver the message, my lord." Farlas butted in politely. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The Jarl did not need to know the details nor he would really care about it.

"That doesn't diminish the service you've done for me and Whiterun Hold." Balgruuf waved his hand dismissively and beckoned to one of the guardsmen. The soldier nodded curtly as the Jarl said something to him in a hushed voice and then he went in the direction of where councilor Proventus left earlier. "To whom do I express my gratefulness?" The Jarl asked again.

"My name is Farlas of Cheydinhal, my Jarl." Farlas introduced himself with a bow and then he pointed at me. "My associate here is…"

"I can speak for myself, thank you." I interrupted him, earning a soft chuckle from the Jarl. "Falaere of Falinesti, my lord." I introduced myself, this time not forgetting the polite 'my lord' expression.

"So you're travelers then. I don't suppose you'd linger here for too long, would you?" Balgruuf queried and scratched his chin contemplatively. Meanwhile Proventus returned from his quarters. "Anyway, you've done a service to my city and Whiterun never leaves its debt unpaid. This should cover your expenses during your stay." The Jarl said gesturing to Proventus. Bald councilor passed us a heavy bag of coin and advised us to spend it wisely. Out of curiosity I looked into the bag; judging by the weight of it, the coin was worth no less than 100 Septims.

The robed man at the table finally raised his head and took a long look at us. "They sure seem capable enough." He mused aloud. "Maybe I could use them to… assist me with my research." At this Farlas looked at him with puzzlement.

"I don't know what use I'll be to you. I'm no scholar." He replied with a shrug.

The Jarl stood up from his seat and stepped towards us. "That is Farengar Secret-Fire, my court wizard." He introduced the robed man. "He's been looking into a matter related to the dragons… and rumors about them. Now that they're returning… we could use your help, if you're interested." The Jarl headed to the room to our right and gestured us to follow him. "We can discuss the matter in Farengar's lab." The court wizard joined us shortly.

The room where Farengar worked seemed a bit large for a mere lab. In fact there was just as much books and writings as magical and alchemical equipment. The wizard stood behind a large table in the middle and pulled out a map. "Well let's get straight to the business." He began explaining a set his gaze on us. "I don't need any scholars, the only thing I need from you two is to fetch me something." He coughed and corrected himself; it seemed rather theatrical to me. "When I say 'fetch', I usually mean delving into an ancient and dangerous ruin in search for a stone tablet that may or may not be actually there. You two look like capable explorers, so this task should be a child's play for you."

"What is so important about this tablet? How is it related to this whole dragon thing?" Farlas questioned. Now that I thought about it, it would be a good idea to know what we are getting ourselves into… if we agreed to do it.

Farengar raised an eyebrow. "Not mere brute mercenary but a thinker, you surprise me." He returned to the topic when Balgruuf gave him a look of disapproval. "You see, when the stories of dragons began circulating, many dismissed them as fantasies, rumors, impossibilities. I dare to say a lot of people will change their minds after yesterday; a fool always dismisses everything beyond his experience as impossible. Anyway, I began to search for information about dragons – where did they vanish all those years ago? And where did they come from?"

"And this tablet holds the answers you look for?" I remained silent as Farlas asked questions.

Farengar nodded. "This tablet, also called the Dragonstone, is said to contain a map of dragon burial sites. That should answer your question. I, ah, learned it should be located in the Bleak Falls Barrow, an old Nordic crypt near Riverwood. All you need to do is to go there, get into the main chamber, retrieve the Dragonstone and bring it to me; simplicity itself."

"Anything we can use to fight this dragon, or dragons, we need it quickly before it's too late. Succeed at this and you'll be well rewarded." Balgruuf added. "Can you do that for me?"

I exchanged a look with Farlas. I could tell he was interested in this Dragonstone business; I was not decided yet. It would be a simple task if Farengar did not want us to venture into a tomb. I was always scared of underground, plus it was a Nordic tomb that could be thousands of years old. Tunnels leading to the main chamber might have been collapsed or worse they could cave in with us inside. But even though it was against my better judgment, I finally nodded. Maybe it was because said tablet would really help in a fight against a dragon. Or it was just a thought of easily earned money… if things did go as planned. "We can do that, my lord." Farlas answered for both of us.

"She doesn't talk much, does she?" Farengar mumbled to himself. I shut him up with a glare before he could make any other remark.

"We'll set out tomorrow morning. If nothing goes wrong, we should bring the tablet within a day." Farlas continued, ignoring court wizard's remark.

"Excellent." The Jarl exclaimed in delight. "I can't think of anyone else I would trust with this. Good luck." Our business with the jarl was now concluded; we bowed politely and left the Jarl's palace.

After leaving Dragon's Reach we went to look for a place to stay overnight. A guardsman on the plaza, observant enough to notice two strangers in the city, tipped us to go to The Bannered Mare, an inn next to the marketplace, saying that 'old Hulda takes a good care of her guests'. The inn proved to be a nice, warm and, at the time, peaceful place… emphasize _at the time_, because with Nords and their love for mead, a brawl or something equally as nasty was bound to happen sooner or later. The gold we received as a reward was enough for us to book a room and to buy a decent meal. We sat at the table near the door, eating in silence. I took a moment to look around the inn. The guests were various sorts of people; mother with a young daughter, iron clad Nord complaining about incompetent guards, young Nord lad eyeing a grey-haired woman who was serving food and drinks, disgruntled woman clad in steel plate armor sitting in solitude at the far side of the room, and a few others who did not stand out as much. As the time passed, more and more people entered the inn. We already finished eating our meals and now we just sat there, drinking our ales. It was then when a young man pulled out a lute and started playing and singing.

I heard Farlas snort in contempt as he recognized the song; Age of aggression, a hymn praising the Imperial legion as the protectors of Skyrim. The whole inn soon started singing along with the young bard… with a few obvious exceptions. I suggested rent a room; we needed to get a decent sleep before venturing into the old tomb. Besides, I did not want to get caught in the middle of some… disagreement between guests; some of them were already drunk. The innkeeper charged us ten Septims each and then she went across the room and up the stairs to show us our room. It was only sparingly furnished but a tired traveler probably would not mind; a wardrobe, a small table with two chairs and a double bed.

Sleeping with someone in one bed was not something that would bother me, as long as it was not a complete stranger, and I doubted Farlas would try anything. There were situations similar to this one in the past when men tried to make advance on me; unfortunately for them I knew very well how to defend myself. Idiots underestimated a woman and it did not end well for them. "So, do I sleep on the floor?" Farlas asked with a grin as he noticed me contemplating the bed.

"Don't be stupid." I replied and started wriggling out of my armor. "I am sure you know better than trying something at me, because you would be dead in a matter of seconds."

"That's something I can believe." Farlas snorted in laughter, also putting off his armor.

Our clothing and weapons ended up soon in two unorganized piles on the both sides of the bed. Just as a brawl broke out in the room below, we finally fell asleep.

* * *

_Farlas' POV_

I opened my eyes as a loud thud sounded and wave of pain shot through my back. I had no idea how long I had been sleeping. However when I woke up and found myself lying on the floor beside the bed, I got the vague idea of what happened. But how exactly did I end up on the ground? I sat up and looked around and spotted my elven companion Falaere sitting at the table, already dressed. She was looking at me, trying to suppress a grin.

"What happened?" I asked sleepily. "And how did I end up on the floor?"

"Oh, you had trouble waking up so I, uh, helped a little." She replied, choking back laughter. It was clear what she meant by 'help'. _That little minx!_ Was pushing people off the bed really her idea of a wake-up call?

It took everything I had to keep a straight face. Getting angry at her little stunt was pointless even though it irritated me that she thought it was funny, which it wasn't. At least I could get even with her later. "Thanks… I guess." I said coolly, dusting myself off as I stood up.

"Don't mention it." She answered, her grin growing wider.

I sighed and started putting my armor on. _Damn woman._ "What time is it, anyway?"

"Just a while after sunrise; we need to hurry up if we want to get our task done today." She answered while gathering her belongings. That was wise of her, although she didn't have to wake me up in such an embarrassing way. It took a while to put my hand-made armor on, but soon we were ready to leave Whiterun.

Skipping the breakfast, we left The Bannered Mare and headed to the city gate. It was early morning and most people were still sleeping; the only people we met on the street were guardsmen. Travel to Riverwood from Whiterun would take at least four hours on foot, so it was a pleasant surprise to find a carriage standing near the stables outside the city. A couple of other travelers before us already paid the driver to take them to Falkreath, but luckily for us, Riverwood was just along the way. The carriage driver, Bjorlam, agreed to give us a ride to Riverwood for half the price, which was 25 Septims each. I had a feeling that the driver was grateful to have two well-armed fighters to scare off any highwaymen. The travel to Riverwood was relatively peaceful, aside from an Imperial patrol which stopped us to check the carriage for smuggled weapons. As expected, they didn't find anything so they had no reason to keep us. It was probably some precaution against the Stormcloaks.

Now that the Stormcloak leader escaped his death in Helgen, the rebels went back to waging war against the Legion and generally making lives miserable for Imperials. I thought about joining the Stormcloaks more than once; they might have fought for a noble cause but I didn't know what to make of their leader. The imperial general said that Ulfric murdered the High King of Skyrim, supposedly using a Voice; according to the old legends, it was some kind of ability to focus one's life energy and practically turning one's voice into a lethal weapon. I didn't know whether the rumors about that were true; such a power could be misused easily, if the one wielding it had no restraints. In any case the Voice made Ulfric an unpredictable and very dangerous man, someone who was not to be trifled with.

After two hours spent in silence the carriage finally arrived to Riverwood where we got off. The village was now guarded by several soldiers in yellow armor. Their presence barely disrupted the daily routine of local people. The whole place looked like nothing ever happened… with an exception of a short imperial man who argued with one of the guards. The soldier went back to his duties soon, leaving the angry man standing in the street. A young woman, also an Imperial, went out of a house nearby and approached the annoyed man. Their conversation soon turned into another argument. My curiosity got the better of me and I took a few steps closer to see what they were arguing about.

"So? Are you going to stand here and wail all day or are you going to actually do something about it?" The woman questioned angrily.

"We're done having this conversation, Camilla!" The man snapped back. "No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing, period!" The woman, Camilla, shook her head at his response. Neither of them noticed me approaching.

"Can I help you?" I asked the man. He nearly jumped, startled by my 'sudden' appearance, while Camilla started giggling softly.

"What?!" He barked at me. When he noticed the look I gave him, he apologized. "Sorry, you just scared me is all. I'm having a bit stressful day; anyway if you need to do some shopping, the Riverwood trader is still open! I am Lucan Valerius, the proprietor."

"Well, I don't need anything right now, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." I explained to the shopkeeper.

"Oh… really?" Lucan asked, taken aback. "It was nothing…"

Camilla rolled her eyes and interrupted him. "My brother's shop got robbed last night. Whoever did that was after one thing; some stupid trinket shaped like a… a dragon claw." She explained, completely oblivious to a glare Lucan gave her.

"It was not a 'stupid trinket' and it was made of solid gold!" He corrected her with raised voice. The he paused when an idea struck him. He turned to us and started rambling. "Look, I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. If you find that claw, it's all yours! The guards won't help me, since they apparently have their hands full, but they did see someone running up to the Bleak Falls Barrow last night…"

Bleak Falls Barrow? We were heading to that crypt anyway, so we might as well kill two birds with one stone. "We'll get the claw if we see it." I said to the Imperial shopkeeper. Falaere remained silent which I took as an agreement; if she wanted to object she would already do so.

"So this is your solution, Lucan?" Camilla asked wryly. "Hiring random strangers to handle your problem?"

"Well, now you don't have to go anywhere, do you?" He replied with a content smile.

Camilla placed her hands on her hips. "Oh really? Then I think your new friends need a guide."

Lucan looked like he was about to faint. "I think we can manage, thank you. Just point us in the right direction." I said hurriedly to prevent another quarrel. Lucan recovered from his shock rather quickly and he scoffed at his displeased sister.

Camilla ignored Lucan and started explaining. "Just go in the direction of Whiterun and after crossing the bridge follow the path leading up the mountain. The barrow is right at the top."

I nodded my thanks and we left for our destination. Following Camilla's directions we crossed the stone bridge and took the path leading up the slope of the mountain. As we went past a sparse forest, three wolves appeared and rushed to attack us. I drew my sword and hacked at the first one to jump at me. It whimpered as the blade grazed its side but it wasn't going to give up. I heard a thundering sound behind me but didn't dare to turn around. The beast recovered from the blow and pounced; this time I was ready. I dodged the enraged wolf and stabbed it into its neck, killing it almost instantly. By the time Falaere was already finished with her opponents without even using her blade. One wolf lay dead at her feet, still thrashing about from the lightning bolt, while the other was running away with fur scorched from fire and tail between its legs. Seeing how easily she dispatched the beasts, I really envied her the aptitude for destruction magic. It was true I was rather good at restoration spells, but aside from that I knew next to nothing about magic. I decided to leave these thoughts for later and kept going.

The further we went the higher up the path led… and the colder the weather was. Very soon the ground became covered with a layer of snow. The chilly air didn't affect me, at least for now, but I couldn't say the same for Falaere. She was shivering with cold, albeit only slightly, but still she seemed captivated by the snow around us. From what I heard, it didn't snow in Valenwood, so I understood her fascination. After a while I noticed a half-collapsed tower in the distance where the road curved to the right. A secluded ruin like this was an ideal place for a bandit hideout. I snuck up closer to get a good look at the tower. Sure enough, there was a man clothed in fur standing guard near the bridge to the tower. A few others were huddled around the fire nearby. There was no way we could get past them without being seen. We walked closer cautiously and watched out for any hostile movements. Soon enough the bandit on guard spotted us approaching; he bellowed at his friends and all of them drew their weapons. Whatever their intentions were, they were certainly not friendly. I pulled out my greatsword and readied myself for an inevitable fight. I still kept the imperial short-sword I took from a dead soldier in Helgen, just in case.

One of the bandits already rushed at us, wielding a crude iron battleaxe. Another one with an iron sword followed closely while the rest of them chose to put us down from afar with bows and arrows. Falaere grabbed her bow and started picking off the enemy archers. The man with an axe got closer and swung at me with a loud roar. I blocked his attack, only to receive a cut across my left arm from his friend. I kicked the axe-wielder in the gut and turned to face the other assailant. He raised his sword arm for another strike when an arrow flew past his head, causing him to jump in surprise. I used the opening to my advantage and stabbed the bandit through his chest. A distant cry of pain cut through the cold air; Falaere and her precise aim just claimed a life of one of the two archers. In the meantime, the axe-wielder recovered from the blow I dealt him earlier and lashed out at me again. I parried the blow and hit the attacker in the face with the hilt of my sword, making him stagger. A poorly aimed enemy arrow bounced off my shoulder guard; I ignored the impact and put my opponent down with two slashes across his chest. Meanwhile Falaere finished off the last bandit with an arrow through the neck. Where the weapons clashed, the silence fell. We took the time to rid the dead bandits and their now empty hideout of valuables; they didn't need them anymore, nor did they deserve them. After that, we continued along the path to the barrow.

As we kept going up the road, the weather started worsening gradually. At first it started snowing lightly, but soon it turned into a blizzard, attended by a windstorm. We were forced to slow down and push against a rocky slope as gusts of wind threatened to throw us off the path. What was even worse, it became even cooler. If I wasn't cold before, then now I started feeling the frost biting mercilessly into my skin. Falaere was shaking with cold even more and her teeth chattered; even furs she looted from a dead bandit didn't keep her from freezing. We had to speed up or else we would both freeze to death before we got to the barrow.

For several minutes which seemed like hours to me given the circumstances, we walked almost blind through the raging snowstorm. I couldn't see past several paces ahead of me. For a while I was afraid I led us the wrong way but my fears proved to be needless when the remains of the barrow came into our sight. Of course, even this place wasn't entirely abandoned, because despite the poor visibility I could see several figures standing outside the crypt. I remembered Lucan saying that whoever robbed his shop ran here with his loot. I could only guess why the thief would steal the golden claw-like trinket and hide in some old crypt and not actually sell it. There were collectors who would pay thousands of Septims for a piece like this. In any case we would learn of thief's intent very soon. I dreaded fighting while almost frozen to the bone, but on the other hand our adversaries would be equally as miserable at least. Falaere was in no shape to fight so I let her stay behind and crept alone along the wall and up the stairs to get a look at those who kept us from entering the tomb. The brigands were huddled around the fire near the entrance and cursed loudly at the bad weather. It didn't occur to any of them to stand guard in case some uninvited guests ran into them. They were three but I was confident that I could deal with them, given the element of surprise on my side. I crept closer to unsuspecting bandits and drew my short-sword; I needed to be fast and given my limbs numbed with frost, the weight of the greatsword would only slow me down.

I climbed up the stairs and snuck up to them, weapon at the ready. But luck wasn't on my side; at the last possible moment, one of the bandits looked my way and cried out in alarm. In the sudden confusion I managed to stab one in the gut before he had a chance to raise his blade. Then I lashed out at the one who alerted his friends, but he blocked the strike and swung his sword at me in retaliation. I dodged the attack but not quickly enough and it caught me in the side, denting my armor but luckily not puncturing it. The bandit made another swipe but this time I blocked. Then I felt a sharp pain and noticed flames licking at my arms. The third bandit managed to slip away and while I was busy fighting her friend she casted a flame spell at me. That cunning bitch tried to fry me inside my armor. I rolled away from the flame and tripped up my opponent in the process. I stood up quickly and held out my left hand, summoning a ward. I never had a chance to use one in a real combat nor did I practice it very often, but it was my only chance to keep the mage at bay. Fortunately, it worked and the mage stared in disbelief as her spells bounced off my magical shield. I couldn't keep this up for long however, I had to get rid of the annoying spell-caster before her magic wore me out.

The other brigand finally managed to scramble to his feet and came running at me, screaming at the top of his lungs and putting my plans to deal with the mage on hold. I blocked the attack and struck back, making him step back a bit. The bandit kept slashing at me from different angles but he didn't know he shielded me from his accomplice's spells the whole time. I kept parrying his mad swipes until I saw an opening and then I jammed my sword into his chest. That left only the mage who started hurling firebolts in my direction; a stronger spell but more demanding. I avoided her spells, not bothering to block them with a ward, and let her tire herself. Suddenly she cried out in pain and collapsed on her knees, bleeding profusely. She clutched her abdomen and mumbled unintelligibly as she stared at a sharp chunk of ice jutting out of her stomach. Then she fell on her back and went limp; if she wasn't dead, she would be soon. As I was searching for whoever killed the mage, Falaere staggered into my view, her hands obscured by icy mist. No doubt it was her who killed the spell-caster.

"Didn't I tell you to stay behind until I deal with the bandits?" I asked her a bit more sharply than I meant to.

"I thought you could use some help." She managed to smile, even though she was freezing. "Besides, we might want to get inside before we freeze to death."

"Good point." I grunted in response. She walked to the great iron door, opened them slightly and slipped inside the crypt. I stayed outside for a bit to treat my wounds; a burst of healing magic caused the burns and gashes to disappear almost instantly. With my injuries gone, I entered the barrow.

Thousands of years left visible marks on the interior of the barrow. The floor was covered in rubble and the daylight illuminated the inside of the entrance hall through a few cracks in the damaged ceiling. It wasn't much warmer here than outside, but at least we were spared of wandering half-blind through the blizzard. We made our way through the hall slowly and quietly; it was stupid to assume the crypt would be unoccupied. Suddenly, voices echoed through the supposedly empty room. Falaere dragged me into a cover behind a pile of toppled stonework and pointed at the far side of the room. A man and a woman clad in cheap hide armor sat by a fireplace and talked to each other, unaware of our presence. We sat hidden behind the rubble and listened to their conversation; one of their friends apparently ran off deeper into the crypt… and took a golden claw with him.

That was all we needed to hear; Falaere took the lead and crept closer to the bandits with a bow in her hand. I unsheathed my short-sword, in case our opponents spotted us. When she got close enough, she drew her bow and fired; a well-aimed arrow caught one of the bandits into the nape. The other one jumped in surprise as her friend fell dead on a cold floor. She pulled out her bow and looked around, trying to find the attacker. Falaere aimed again and took another shot without hesitation. The bandit jerked her head violently as the arrow hit her square in the forehead, killing her on spot. Our path was cleared. We took the time to relieve the dead bandits of their loot; Falaere swapped her wooden longbow for a stronger Legion issue weapon she found lying near one of the corpses. Then we moved on deeper into the barrow.

The passages of the barrow were lit by fires, probably a courtesy of the thief and his partners in crime. Some of the corridors were caved in when the ceiling collapsed after ages of deteriorating. Roots grew through the walls and ceiling here and there. The silence was… unnerving to say at least. The passage twisted through the underground and led us into a hall. The only way past it was blocked by an iron gate. There was some kind of lever in the middle and a corpse of a fur-clothed man lay right next to it. At the wall on a small balcony above the gate there were three images placed on face-like reliefs; the middle one had fallen off on the ground but luckily it remained intact.

"This is a trap if I have ever seen one." Falaere remarked dryly and pointed at the body. Several darts were sticking out of the corpse. They seemed too small to cause a serious injury; that meant they must have been poisoned. I looked around the hall and noticed three trihedral pillars. I stepped closer to take a look at them; each of them had images on its sides, similar to those on a wall. _Snake, whale and bird…_

"Maybe it is some kind of puzzle." Falaere thought aloud and suggested. "Try turning one of those pillars."

I looked at the symbols on the wall and then again at the pillars. I had just one shot to solve it correctly, otherwise I would become another corpse on the ground. Slowly and deliberately I turned the left pillar to the symbol of a snake to correspond to the left image on the wall. I did the similar with the other two pillars, thanking Divines that the middle symbol survived the fall off the wall. When the pillars were in their correct position, or so I hoped, I stepped to the lever.

"I'm going to try pulling the lever." I called out to Falaere. "I hope you have a healing potion at your elbow, just in case I did it wrong…" I added with a nervous laugh. With a last look at the gate, I took a deep breath and pulled the lever.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. When a sudden rattling sound resonated through the hall, I threw myself away from the lever, hoping I could avoid getting hit by lethal darts. I sprawled on the floor and started examining myself only to find out not a single dart hit me.

"The gate is open!"

I turned my head to the gate and saw it no longer obstructed the passage leading from the hall we were in. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding; then I realized the whole puzzle was a bit too easy… yet one of the thieves _died_ trying to solve it. Were they really that stupid?

"That one does not have the claw on him." Falaere spoke suddenly and gestured to the corpse near the lever.

"So our thief has to be somewhere inside." I said more to myself. The thief ran off with his trophy and closed the gate behind him, somehow resetting the puzzle. Somebody obviously didn't want to share with his friends. But why would he delve deeper into the crypt instead of running away with the claw? This question plagued me from the moment we stepped into this gods-forsaken place.

We left the puzzle-hall and walked through the corridor. Soon we reached a spiral staircase leading downwards and deeper into the tomb. We forgot to take into account a possibility there would be something else other than people inside the crypt, so a small pack of skeevers, who rushed up the stairs to kill the intruders, caught us off guard. Of course Falaere proved to be more vigilant than me and took down the hideous creatures with a few lightning spells before I managed to draw my weapon.

We moved on down the stairs and emerged in a room with a large stone table and a few decaying shelves with burial urns and various instruments, resembling embalming tools. This room had to be a place where the dead were being prepared for a burial; that meant the burial chambers were close. The passage led further into an intersection where a side passage separated from the main one and went to the left. The corridor leading straight was blocked by fallen debris. Walls were covered in thin spider-webs. We walked along the passage leading further into the crypt when a panicked voice echoed suddenly through the inside of a long forgotten ruin.

"I-is that you? Harknir? Bjorn? S-Soling?! Look, I'm sorry I ran off with the claw but I need help!... Guys, seriously, I'm trapped! Get me out of here!"


End file.
